1. |
A
03:51
|
|||
we're letting our smiling become temporary confirmation
to make connection to reality and the last time I felt weary
the bridges between memory are tenuous
so we'd best remain cautious
and fortunate through our addictions to shelter and aesthetic
we'll leave focus defeated and fold under pressure
that's equal in part to our social anxieties
another night that we thaw out our dinners and eat with disposable utensils
we are quick and efficient
entertained and lethargic
not concerned with how we identify ourselves
from the charming voices that dance in our heads
it's all for show
a cruel resonance like crooked marble
has us feeling frantic, slanted
sometimes adventurous
but even the fool knows how to get down to business
well life is so short, but it's feeling too long
|
||||
2. |
||||
you've got straw insides
revealed plainly in candle light
a touch to the flame could set your soul alight
and you've got button eyes
the kind you might go to a store and buy
they're sewn on stiff and crookedly aligned
what a disguise
will it protect you for all of time
well I've got a feeling you won't keep the birds away tonight
|
||||
3. |
B
04:47
|
|||
you'll catch no reward for
being scatter-brained all the time
or complaining that your new set of skin
has some freckles taking up space
splitting hairs while cotton ball ears
soak every drop of blood out of every word said
well it's keeping me warm to know
that imperfection stays flexible
I'll just pretend I know what is beautiful
that each mistake made is adjustable
you won't catch a break for
being a scaredy-cat all the time
or bending into uncomfortable shapes
and pretending you've found your place
you've got color dripping from your brow like beads of sweat
I can paint it, I can frame it, I can hang it on my wall
another night spent alone writing down these lines
you can keep them, you can love them, you can hide them all away
and as they're sitting at the base of a hollow trunk
I can paint it, I can frame it, I can hang it on my wall
and we'll just close the door on creativity,
board up the windows so it can't peer inside
we'll keep framing mediocrity as abstract and give it a place in our homes
|
||||
4. |
C
05:35
|
|||
go on and break out the champagne
we'll learn to overstep boundaries
and preserve this ego
well let's not utter another word
and try to stay faithful to the world that we love
it's hard to be grateful when you've given up
so set aside any fear of yourself, or face it head on
just never forget what it feels like to checkout and live withdrawn
it seems in light of recent events
we've been compelled to recreate
every affirmation and dissent
the occasional sleepless night
an assortment of evaporative traits
a false desire to rejuvenate
a face full of weathered lines
to accentuate your fierce puppy dog eyes
an impressionable aura such as this
no longer leaves me doubtless
see, all along we've been carefully devised
to cast each expression in our likeness
|
||||
5. |
||||
a sunrise, a sunset
a wasted friendship
|
||||
6. |
E
04:57
|
|||
a nervous self imposed tendency
a youthful memory
a weak awakening
to a dangerous humidity
where it's hard to breathe
and a crime to speak
in the city street
our threat can only increase
then home, sweet home
halfway desires can ruin a morning a noon and a night
a re-imagining
of an unlikely reality
and our need to conceive
a moving melody
a line that sticks for eternity
can it be achieved?
we're graceful in dance
languid and petite
to connect within a frame
full of promise and relief
we're all aware of shortcomings
lets spend today to be complete
we're all aware of shortcomings
just trying to find a balance
a strong enlightening
in a safe aridity
where no one has ever drowned
and there is sanity
in finding some will to believe
that harsh thoughts can only recede
then home, sweet home
halfway desires can ruin a morning a noon and a night
|
||||
7. |
||||
8. |
F
05:32
|
|||
if the page would bleed anxiety
a steady flow of ink and tragedy
it would be satisfying my need for distance
some halfway sense of belonging to the wicked and vane
if there was ever a reason to adapt
we'd better find it
cross-eyed, but aware of surroundings
and gasping for air
trying to slow a head that's spinning
and the walls will trace the lines of escape
approval of another day spent inside
asking a reflection for support and unnecessary comfort
an exchange of past and present neglect for future thoughts
now hands remain possessive
I'm scared they always will
an apathetic notion for this unsuspecting chill
imagine how exciting to be truly lost for the first time
some suggest we trade ourselves for those whispering voices
when doubts consume the moments
and blemish our time with assumption
it's beneficial to wait it out
or else maybe seem embarrassed, or pathetic
well we're trying to turn it around
can we tread the surface of water
and empathize
take to the beach
start a fire, spend the night
if indifference can inspire
it will chase us throughout our lives
with no shoes and feet worn
can we stand to walk on by
|
||||
9. |
||||
10. |
G
03:20
|
|||
letters made from hands
words that are poised and mean to contend
the very idea of existence
and the reasons we can find release
the northern window lets in the autumn breeze
developing curiosity
a young raven falls from it's nest
archived philosophy on the rusty hinge of an unopened door
serpents crawl underneath our chairs
there's perfect candle placement for cheerful dinner guests
and I just notice the grooves in the wooden table
the eastern window lets in the rising sun
and I spend more time analyzing conversation than creating it
the western window lets in the smell of the fields
we find delight in company
like a daydream captured for a short time
and bite our tongues at the thought of ourselves behaving feverishly
we become so small
the southern wall has no window
it reminds me of home
|
||||
11. |
A Blackbird en Route Mesa, Arizona
A Blackbird en Route is an experimental rock project started in Seattle, Washington by Weston Wrzesinski and Mike Igano.
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