1. |
Movement
03:08
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violent thoughts wrestle with a giant loss
a spoiling frost spreads like fire when people talk
a child’s home torn down by a ringing phone
a fever with no course to run
no stars aligned, no fire from the sky
can shine a light on words that reconcile
no heart of stone will wilt under a precious poem
nothing said makes sense of what is wrong
a speech is made, a child, a grave
a flower laid, a final wave
the gesture lost: in movement overcome
=
left with naught, but finding comfort in the thought
that broken hearts are impervious to flying darts
all is known, less love laid bare to its bones:
a force no strength of will can overcome.
the misery of doubt and blame
twists happiness all-up with shame
can beating hearts undo what has been done?
=
deliver scorn on golden tongue
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2. |
Dark Science
03:43
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maintained
fellowship is not a game
relationships built patiently
the meeting place of hate and shame
we’ll fake another wall
a cage, a cause
a fated final brawl.
left lame and lost
and hated after all:
the stain of cost.
hated after all
our names are lost.
=
a golden place:
where we can chase our favourite things
while up above the son relays
all the shades of his father’s hate
no shining principle
legitimates,
no fiery symbol will
strip youth from age.
with only time to kill,
we’re left to wait
and out-last “predictable”
our test, our fate.
=
a fevered heart's withdrawal
from strength of will
leaves poisoned animal,
asleep and ill:
his faith in science flawed.
a light held still
will trace no comet’s fall.
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3. |
Bow and Arrow
03:10
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a handsome boy tries to behave
and act a way beyond his age
and leave a mark so people say
‘what was his name? what was his name?’
I can see him standing there
with crooked teeth and curly hair
a face drawn in a solemn stare
as clear as day as clear as day
=
a patient man casts off the frame
that holds him straight and on his legs,
propertied, and living grave.
he lies awake he lies awake
and worries ‘bout mistakes he’s made
and if he should have played it safe
romantic thoughts are thought too late
thought too late, thought too late
=
to sleep’s no use
no sweeter
than dreams confused
by fever
=
when I can’t sleep my mind will race
past people standing round my bed
through empty halls where I’m chased
I move my legs, move my legs
and hope to hear a tender word
to make me think of something good
like happy kids locked in embrace
lie face to face to face to face
=
a worried heart
lives alone lives alone
|
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4. |
React To It
03:56
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a dog with shining eyes and smiling teeth
finds a bone and buries it
a boy beset by rules becomes a beast
wait til he’s grown and marry him
don’t cross that man, his love is lost
but he waits for the night to react to it
and see her silhouetted to her bones
=
left too long, grown too old
a body turned to stone
lead and tin, razed to coals
and made to solid gold
=
I need a stolen heart to bring me relief
a life’s evil deeds to rail against
a safe place to start, a map we can read
or lines so our feet can follow them
a fever to cut the cord suspending our tastes
from being to blame for our actions is
what we need by couldn’t know-oh
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5. |
A Lover's Anvil
04:45
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sleep can make a fever go dull
like fire pulled out on a string
a spark will send a man in shackles
from first breath to his final dream
read the pattern in the brick wall
stolen thoughts of awful things
a Lover’s Kiss, a Scientist’s Call
fill your nights with fevered dreams
=
a lover’s anvil
=
catch the shapes cast black by the light
an arm leads to a child’s hand
a ghost that only comes out at night
once a man, once a man
raise a hammer, lover of mine,
anvils, stakes, nails and chains
build a house to lay down inside
sleep and dream of falling rain
=
a lover’s anvil
|
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6. |
Mutual Feelings
02:48
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“true love will never grow -
we’re too different when push comes to shove.
and when we’d be alone
our conversations would be awkward because
we’d be bored and miserable
and all the romance would dissolve into fuss
and un-wearable clothes
oh…”
“your negativity
has got me feeling really down in the dumps.
you say we couldn’t be,
but I look forward to the future because
the future that I see
is one of mutual feelings of love
where we share recipes
ohhh…”
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7. |
No Selfish Love
04:59
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it’s late and I feel
my thoughts go running on
past rails, past fences
past car doors forming walls
the face of a man
of a boy who wanted one
shines out from a well
from a great height looking on
all summer long
when we were young
all our scores were settled by
street-lights coming on
a change in the pace
of my racing mind’s memories
gives weight, gives embrace
to the thoughts I don’t want in me
the face of the ghost
of the dream that I want to see
lies down for the night
closes eyes and waits for me
asleep by the light
of a lamp leaves a fiery dream
of foxes and sheep,
berries and waterwings
the thoughts that my mind
wants to share with the memories
that I live when I sleep,
when I sleep and am free to dream
the weight of wrong
I’m carrying along
won’t stop my heart
from wanting you
no fame no gun no power
no name no lion’s growl
no cane no crutch no cowl
no grace will bear me through
no song no sight no flower
no night no glance no howl
no art but selfless love
will let me truly talk to you
|
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8. |
Mean Home
03:43
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a world with no altitude
wires strike the latitude
through the streets and avenues
a black current carries you
a change in weather brings
black birds in great black silhouettes
too strange to make-believe
precise and intricate
a rain of maple keys
wind shakes the branches overhead –
a hard rain, a bad dream
yeah yeah yeah
=
it’s mean but that don’t mean no
child can’t find no real home, real home
=
a world with no altitude
wires strike the latitude
through the streets and avenues
a black current carries you
a trial, a just hand
a field of faces to forget
a bad taste, that bad smell
before they eat that bad again
it’s too late, the right man
to explain this all has left
now shit’s all shot to hell
yeah yeah yeah
=
it’s mean but that don’t mean no
child can’t find no real home real home
|
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9. |
Recovery
03:50
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I think of all I’ve ever done in my life
and I feel like I should leave this city late at night
I’ve got a car, got the keys, I can drive
I need something to take to the streets, so that when I die
I’ll never let go, never let go, never let go, never let go
never let go, never let go, never let go, never let go
=
I’ll burn the sheets that hold the sleep I know:
recovery from crippling control.
fight the fever keeping me alone
on my feet or on my knees, you know
oh-ohh, I’m calling out
=
we’re calling out, we’re calling out
|
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10. |
Fine Lines
02:30
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an arrowhead of black geese
the twisted shapes of dead trees
all thoughts are prey to some beast
a seed of rape under green leaves
a whale is prey to harpoons
I’m so ashamed I want you
a hate untamed by love’s wounds
I have your name, I own you.
the swing of a gate
the click of a phone
hung up on the fate
that keeps us alone
all my life’s stories
that I’ve never told
give me a page
and I’ll draw you a home in
=
fine, fine, fine lines
fine, fine, fine lines
your heart is mine, mine, mine, mine
=
a figurehead, a just man
a touch withdrawn is a cut hand
a memory: a tin-can
tied to a string heard love’s plan
the swing of a gate
the click of a phone
hung up on the fate
that keeps us alone
all my life’s stories
that I’ve never told
give me a page
and I’ll draw you a home in
=
fine, fine, fine lines
fine, fine, fine lines
your heart is mine, mine, mine, mine
=
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11. |
White Light
03:12
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branch blows back and forth
tapping on window
tighten blankets so
you don’t feel the cold
love that begs and begs
a loveless way to live
lover, fade away
leave a soldier chained
walk away, walk a mile, and find I love you more
walk away, walk a mile, and find I love you more
walk away, walk a mile, and find I love you more
walk away, walk a mile, and find I love you more
=
the body dressed for cold: mittens, scarf and all.
the beating heart, evolved, is still animal.
=
maybe a golden dart
finally finds your heart
watching river flow
from down below
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12. |
Dream of Stones
04:24
|
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hello my dear,
would you like to make a plan
to goto the beach
and sit out on the sand?
let it let it sift
through the fingers of our hands
til it burns our skin
and we dig to find the damp.
we’d sit watch the kids
make up games to play
worked up to a fever pitch
to while away the days.
we could sleep and dream of stones
at the bottom of the lake
well safe safe beneath
the washing of the waves
=
don’t fret that stones
fear the ending of the earth:
a last breath the ghost
of a sentimental urge;
that love left no trace
an inconsequential hurt
too plain too close
too small to be observed.
a flat expanse
not worked by any hand
no path no path
a monument of land
and no map no photograph
can illustrate the plan
don’t fret worry is
that crutch that makes a man
a denier
a denier
a denier.
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