1. |
Speakeasy I
06:22
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pour one for the heart inside your chest
another for the words you haven't said yet
your brain has your tongue in a sleeper hold
in 23 years you've never felt so bold
to say i've been dreaming, it's mine
crushing your glass til the blood seeps through
the worry and fear is written all over you
your tongue has your heart swinging from a noose
sigh, what's a girl to do?
to say i've been dreaming, it's time
pour one for your friends inside your head
"sante", "merci", the next round's on them
pour one for yourself to wrestle your tongue loose
blood, running thin in your veins, feels new
choose to stay dreaming, it's fine
and i’m wondering who you are
leaning out of the backseat of your car
and i’m wondering where
i’ll lay my head tonight
i'm wondering who you are
blacked out in the backseat of your car
i'm wondering why
i left my head behind
and i’m wondering where i am
the sun burning my skin
and i’m wondering where
i'll lay my head tonight
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2. |
The Black Sea
04:59
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we left the bodies by the road
found them buried in snow
we were circled by a pack of hungry dogs
trying to make a run for the shore
gray water meeting grayer skies
children floating like dead mines
leave them to the dogs and all of their rotted teeth
oh, no burden on my mind
i had a dream about constanţa
i was face down in the black sea
caught between the wolves prowling the shoreline
and the rolling fog above me
pull my body from the sea
brush the salt off of me
beneath a crumbling skyline
monuments to better times
bent and rusted, pelted by the tides
oh, no burden on my mind
to leave the stragglers behind
for the dogs, curled up, in my sleep
i had a dream about constanţa
i was floating in the black sea
caught between the wolves prowling the shoreline
and the rolling fog above me
we left the bodies by the side of the road
for the dogs, for the dogs
freezing their aching bones
we find another one buried in snow
oh the dogs, oh the dogs
how could we have known?
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3. |
Drift
03:07
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drift into my head
calmly make your nest
hold my eyes shut so i can’t escape
gone in the morning
leave no trace again
alone in a sea with a bottle and a creed
set them adrift with you
see if they can float
apart from memories
we were barely kids
lost in the woods again
breadcrumbs in the dark
leading back to where you stand
or maybe to the water, dip my head in
and set me adrift with you
see if we can float apart
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4. |
Huntress
06:05
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from the window of a train
desolation and urban decay
pass in crumbling waves
i'm staring emptily
the people staring back
their faces always look the same
though the towns and seasons change
their empty gaze is unfazed
by my calls
their names are all i know
i lose the rest
under my breath, lost in the city, in my head
i dream of wilderness
but in the wild, long for the city's filth
rusting trains, a crumbling bridge
an empty road with the engine revved
beside a freeway overpass
lies a huntress with my scent
lying quietly in the weeds
until the grass bears her shape permanently
i hear her calls
my name is all she knows
on the road
i can feel her breathing down my neck
or is it the wind across my face?
i close my eyes, let my mind fade
spent years sprawled across her chest
took her heart apart, skinned herself alive
julia wore her mind like a fur coat
in the corners of her chest
i'd carve a cave to build my nest
suck the marrow from her bones
stamp my name across her hands
julia condensed her dark thoughts into poems:
i've been dreaming of her chest
eat her heart, cherish the rest
pour a glass, toast her health
"to julia"
from the window of a train
i watch the city limits fade
let one more summer pass
place a winter in its stead
i dig my hands into my coat
shield my face from the wind and snow
let nature hide my tracks
keep my back to the frozen road
on a dark mountainside
find a cave and build my home
look down on the city lights
build a fire and waste the night
on a dark mountainside
send my smoke into the sky
let her name cross my lips
close my eyes, remember her kiss
on a dark mountainside
let the wind carry my cries
let the smoke signal my needs
send all my dreams to sleep
but i still hear her calls
she can't hear my response: "julia"
under my breath, lost in the city, in my head
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5. |
Last Dream Before Waking
09:00
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(the whiskey might make you feel better if it doesn’t kill you first)
(long-lost convictions and unfilled prescriptions)
(yellowed in the bottom of your purse)
(with your distrust of science, and long-believed lies of your lover)
(you can’t tell what’s worse)
(a life with no sadness or a life with no end)
laying in the backseat
you were drunk and dreaming
thoughts leaking from your fractured head
blood stains on the seat
of your smoldering compact
the air reeking of spilt coffee and cigarettes
with tears drenching your phone
shorting the transistors
you were petrified, lost, lonely, loathsome
when that brutal last call goes through
and i hear you breathing
the memories become too much to bear:
on a warm august night i took a drive
with one hand holding my head trying to keep my thoughts in
the other gripping the wheel with white knuckles
desperately trying to live through the next turn
i drank the last whiskey from an old bottle
and cast it aside through the open window
imagine the broken glass slash your tires
and your desperate pursuit ends in a twisted wreckage
but when i pull your body from the shattered glass
there's only one thing that i can say...
how many others could you have known?
how many others would you have followed home?
how many others could you have known?
how many others could i have driven home?
from the radio the static drips so slowly that i may as well ignore
the droning signals penetrating the bare surface of my brain
as i stand locked outside in the cold by all of the summer girls
whose grins and tans i just can’t bear
so i’ll drive to some cold beach where the tide will freeze my blood inside my veins
and let my body die; soaking wet and oxygen deprived
and i will lie and wait for my brain to forget all my failed tries
at being happy and at home
but i’m compelled to be alone
the only thing i’ve never known
but with all the wrong predictions to lead me across all of the right roads
into your open arms i’ll crawl to cry these last few days away
and i don’t say these things because i think you need my sympathy
so, darling, just hold me near
but your brutal last call replays in my scarred memory endlessly
i know i long to join you with my fingers tangled in your golden curls
i hear the sirens wail engulfed by crunching steel against stone
and i’m laying in your nest
i can smell it on your breath
the word i never should have left:
“home.”
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6. |
St.
07:58
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she was a saint, she was a common tool
lying hopeless and waiting for use
beneath her crossed arms lay a golden rule
to be a saint, what’s a girl to do?
she was a saint, she was a precious jewel
lying weary and wasting her youth
beneath her sorrow lay a perfect soul
to be a saint, what’s a girl to do?
what’s another night in the stacks?
another hour, find an answer to that, i guess
leave her number scrawled into the index
poet collections: browning, shelley, plath
what's another night in the sack?
a half an hour to convince herself of that
“what’s in it for me? can i carry your wristlet?"
“i live right by here.” no, it hasn’t happened yet
"i live right by here." NO, IT HASN’T HAPPENED YET
another hour, ask again, gently undress
leave her number scrawled into the index
her mind turning: poetry, undress
she could never believe you if you won't trust her at all
she could never believe in anything like you at all
you would never believe her if you can't see her at all
you would never believe in anything but you at all
she would never believe you if you said you were not lost
she would never believe in you
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7. |
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i left you a voicemail: "fuck, i miss you"
i swore off your name, removed it from my mind
but two days later i pulled up outside of your old home
and i tried your front door... it was open
buried inside beneath the dust
were 16 years of skeletons
so i cleaned your closet in a daze
you know, the mess had always bothered me
then I stepped back outside with my head down
searching for a thought like metal on the shore
but two days later, crying in my room with the shades drawn
i imagine i am resting with you
buried beneath the dirt and grime
now i'm lost inside my own mind
where we're climbing the ladder to the roof
of our old boarding school
with some paper cups and a box of wine
too little cares, and too much time
i run my fingers through your hair
i feel your breath warm my neck
then i climb back downstairs with my arms cold
your memory a blur; your voice miles away
two seconds later i wake up inside of my own room
and i know that i have to follow you
and hide beneath the dust
feel it filling up my lungs
feel the wind running through my hair
feel it filling up my lungs
(let's get lost on the wrong side of sin)
(i couldn't tell you where that line begins)
(but the end is clear) i don't know why
the other side of myself keeps me waiting
but i hold it dear and close, but never safe
i keep it locked down and sober
wait until it boils over
into my head dead two days later
so i choose to dream and leave it alone
the end is something that i'll never know
have one more drink but this time alone
leave everything to the imagination
I'LL SIT AND WATCH THE WORLD PASS ME BY
JUST HOLDING ON TO THE IDEA THAT I'M ALIVE
BUT WHAT IS LIVING IF NOT A CHANCE TO DIE
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