1. |
nosebleeder
01:42
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your spit was so hot in my mouth
but the fires burnt out, its all smoke
your fists near the top of your blouse
the back of your house, our wheels broke
so long montreal
you've been trading tricks with a stranger
soft lights turning on
for you, little nosebleeder
salt teeth and a dirty black eye
doesn't deny, my cheeks rough
the blood dear in the cut of your hair
falling over the chair, you're so tough
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2. |
emeline
03:04
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emeline, emeline hunts easy prey
allez, allez the french girls say
but they can't see her in the dark
just smell the smoke after the spark
on a train, her reign has come to pass
she succeeds the throne with tempered class
but they can't see her dirty thoughts
just hear her tying sailors knots
a maritime deserter
she tastes honey in alberta
grave picked flowers from the herder
and she calls him the converter
emeline won't wash her hands
they were cleaned in holy oil sands
but they can't hear her whispered psalms
just feel her dirty, filthy palms
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3. |
jazz guys
04:09
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modern jazz guys alibis
french names for september skies
quebec constellation guides
lets take the car apart
and we can sell it for parts
make our dollars from sparks
and answering machine after thoughts
tongues are tied and twisted in knots
a blue moon and i know i'll see you soon
a streetlight and i know there'll be a fight
but not between me and you
obvious like blood on snow
the camera shutter falls too slow
washed out in a kodak roll
washed up like a talk show host
wanting the haunting of your ghost
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4. |
new joa
03:12
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with a black eye and a fat lip
a trickle of blood and a mouthful of spit
the new joan of arc, in the punk rock pit
on the baie d'urfe line as tight as teeth
stop requested sign lit like a christmas wreath
the new joan of arc on an androgynous streak
the new joan of arc with her interests peaked
a cowboy romeo angel all glasses and gum
weather proofed in cable and talking in silver tongues
the new joan of arc avoiding his thumbs
the new joan of arc hides beside the drums
the gas station light blinks open all night, as red as a bite, the tired eyes of st. francis
a chorus of knees and hands tied to trees, that move with a tease like some hungover actress
when the wind comes again i find my sea legs and i call your name,
but joans up in flames
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5. |
pyot
02:34
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water colours of the summer start to run on tired feet
the pianos hacking jazz through the window of 81 york street
its too late to pyot, the sirens singing for me only, lately
superstitious of the dishes that are tired in the kitchen sink
suspicious dirty wishes lipstick kisses on all your drinks
a relapsed misogynist who just needs a new years kiss, baby
the midgic road with expectation, a chiac prayer of exaltation
it was good enough to have drawn first blood
lets have a parlez at your party through a parted sideways glance
long division of the precision of my fingers beside your pants
mathematics and ecstasy, and silver lake mysteries, lately
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6. |
chma
03:09
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we feel the waves
we feel the waves
salt water potion sprays
salt water ocean strays
west of here
west of here
in the rearview mirror
thumbs in your ears
for days when rains
for days when rains
your ghost once again
haunting window panes
i'm barking out a flame
i'm conjuring your name
coughing up a lung and biting on my tongue
i'm holding fast to hope
i'm molding casts of soap
spitting up a lung
with curses on my tongue
the sea, the sea
can't handle my affection
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Scott Royle Saint John'S, Newfoundland and Labrador
a salty sea dog.
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