1. |
On Paper
03:47
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You've got a seasoned little heart, and you say it's in pain.
It makes me wonder what you're doing in your day to day.
Do you answer your mother's phone calls?
Do you understand your own short falls?
Is your pulse erratic, is there something on the line?
On paper you don't get a say
But on paper you're fine.
I've got a Little Egyptian accent, true.
I talk slowly but it's fast enough for you.
I drop a syllable here and there.
I could be eloquent, but I'd rather swear.
It's conversational, I use it when it's right.
On paper it seems so affected
But on paper it's fine.
A dog is yowling through the day and through the night.
The birds are landing to my left and to my right.
I say a silent little spell just to keep them where they are.
They hop and flutter little distances around my neighbor's car.
They clean their brilliant crimson plumage on the telephone line.
On paper their images are shaky, but on paper they're fine.
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2. |
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Dolores was jumping in the aisles, shouting skyward
But the beams of the new sanctuary
Were covered with a pale, pale plaster and a roof
Perhaps her incantations made it through
Dolores kicked off her new shoes
But her pew-mates tucked them neatly underneath
In the shadow of the seat closest to the stage
The sermon, it dissolved and transformed into revival
But we new the now free-form
Would keep our spirits warm
And that our houses could wait
And so too could the homemade banquet food with forks and plates
We weren't approaching, but coaxing down the gates
They would descend.
We could be late.
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3. |
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The Earth is turning, and it's likely you know.
Spin 'round your room -- a perspective show.
You cup your ears as the train whistle blows
Hedging a bet: rotation reverses flow.
We were children of the universe on a chemical binge
But now we're Pharaohs of adult lower-class
And we can feel the lines on the map
If we bother to trace them with our pens.
Every generation's overrated at best.
We're playing lousy hands and close to the chest.
Telling half truths and we're making up the rest.
A glassy-eyed fuck, like a signal path test.
And no, we may not care, but we cannot forget.
We're medicated, maybe, but our memories don't reset.
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4. |
Song For Kev
03:36
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The rusted red roof of the shed is alive
It's crawling with shadows
A dance in the light
Between both our houses a shotgun of grass is bending and twirling, alight?
All day. Silently standing in nobody's way.
The swing faces east and it moves in the wind
I'd write you a letter but I just can't begin
My soul, if I have one, is joyous and full
Though my pockets are empty
And I know this world can be cruel
All day. Silently standing in nobody's way.
Locked arms on the beach, just south of L.A.
In front of the frigid March waters that day
Roadside attractions of desert roads rear-viewed and fading away
All day.
Silently standing in nobody's way.
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5. |
Tomato Flowers
02:09
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Tomato flowers growing on tomato branches
Turn their heads and rub their eyes in disbelief
It's so nice when you come around
The neighborhood sleeps silently
But the neighborhood will stomp their feet
In the morning for a meet and greet in your honor
They'll arise
So many systems to decide
The shape of language and time
Yes, we can channel our heroes
They'll never live up to the blueprints
Created in our minds
It's so nice when you come around
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6. |
Battle Flowers
06:06
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All of your enemies are wearing chrysanthemum
Friendships are born and mutate with scorn
And hyacinth reigns from above
And garlands of silk line the walls
While fasteners haphazardly fall
And light reflects gently, though sometimes so harsh
From an aging, gyrating mirror ball
And every step lands all at once and all sounds fill the hall
Deliveries will come to your door while you're down the street
Your eyes on the sidewalk
A chemical taste in your mouth while you're moving your feet
Grapefruit rind red ribbons wrapped
Around a cream colored box
Nestled outside the black and grey door
Of a new home protected by latch, key, and lock
And a keeper of keys with his heart ill-at-ease
Lies dreaming on the floor
He could stay there for days, and maybe that's what he'll do
Eyes twitching madly, but soul underwhelmed
Afternoons waiting for you
Old silo silhouettes line future streets on the farm
There used to be hills
Now it's flat here for miles
What's the use? / What's the harm?
Erased all the lines on the map
Now my paper's just blank
An aerial view depicts energies too
Armies march, regroup, and flank
And warm earth of sun-dried, old battlefields hold up the tanks
The action's not what it once was
So they could stay there for days
The zealots are cops now, and the slogans all work
In a land where just certain crime pays
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David Brown Bloomington, Indiana
Helicopters fly overhead. Cars rush by the window. Talkin' Neo-Nothing Blues. Escalators and hammering. A media grape-stomping.
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