1. |
violent dreams
02:42
|
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violent dreams
of concrete streams
two skinned knees
wildstreaks
i'm coughing up a cold again
and so it goes
we don't have to talk in rows and rows and rows
so slow
embaressment glows
an october wind whipped nose
through the cotton of our cloths
we rub tennis elbows
|
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2. |
indian summer
03:15
|
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your phantom limb draped across my chin
lip syncing secrets chin to chin
you didn't seem to mind
when i ate the sleep from your eyes
shut tight
dreaming of another
weather men will name hurricanes for you
and i'll dissapear like a weather balloon
you didn't to care
when i finally joined you in prayer
held hands
under the covers
cold river, our teeth began to shiver in the night
on an indian summer
|
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3. |
too soon
02:55
|
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i remember when we were young
our bodies shaking in the heat of the summer sun
where we tightened up our lungs
too soon
posing pictures at the beach
burying our empties and the pit from a peach
there i begged for you to speak
too soon
saying prayers in your mother tongue
in between the seams of your chewing gum
then i begged for you to come
too soon
i go in for a kiss and miss in the chaos of the isthamus
and i'm smooth talking
|
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4. |
to the bone
02:39
|
|||
la vie en rose
bedroom door
old work cloths
hit the floor
hardwood seams
gather dust
floorboard beams
sick with rust
to the bones
of your back
in mobile homes
and heart attacks
you hear the hum of lovers lungs
i want to be your kitchen sink
be the dishes and the soap on your cheek
i'm a wreck
at the sight of the back of your neck
i collapse
at a hint of your kneecaps
to the bone
|
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5. |
there is a darkness
04:54
|
|||
a dead dog's bones
buried under grass
will turn to gas
eventually
in the yard
of your mother's house
where you dried your blouse
in the breeze
your hand
on my burning head
fire engine red
mercury
the ghost
of your touch
finger nails and blush
near middle C
theres a place inside of me
where the light don't always reach
theres a darkness that agrees with me
but theres a flame inside my chest
the dark cannot digest
its as constant as the rolling sea
|
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6. |
sailors mouth
02:33
|
|||
half awake
august heat
roman candles and your boyfriend in the street
your sailors mouth was pursing south when the season began to shake
dressed down
autumn gold
baritones and dead deer in the road
you jumped the curb with a jewish verb montreal began to drown
it was nothing but its something to me now
|
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7. |
sweethearts
03:05
|
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down past the graveyards where the engines rust
we made mud from the blood and dust
fall leaves kneeling in a red hot blush
the warmest rivers never rush
with the misshapen lungs of an only child
full of CO2 and running wild
i followed you dressed in my funeral suit
hotter than any hot pursuit
at the muslim grocery i took your hand
and we made up on the fresh fruit stand
and we made up some lies to tell
under garden umbrellas and sugar smells
outlaws and lovers
hide under gutters
while sweethearts of the world try to outrun the summer
|
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8. |
the boxer
02:37
|
|||
looking cruel in your crop top
near the fence line where the rain stops
driving home on the old road
with the buzz of church radio
and it all becomes so clear
in holy roman hair
barefoot on the stairs
on tables and chairs
the clenched fist of a southpaw
with a held punch and a glass jaw
the comeback kid in blue jeans
with a meanstreak and small feet
and teenage wonder glows
on soft shoulders of the road
your soft shoulders to your nose
my nose and your nose close
|
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9. |
comeback
03:10
|
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throw me in the ganges
spread my ashes on bent knee
your a years lease on a hot streak
we're a sinking ship holding car keys
dirt on our nails
we're gardeners with hair like sails
shoes come off
i took too long, you speak to soft
two fools on a promenade
holding coke receipts and a bandaid
its a handshake, an earthquake
the piano sounds of heartbreak
you yawn and i blush
tiny forest fires cheeks like rust
a hard black eye
from a passenger with a mean goodnight
its a comeback
|
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10. |
||||
feeling vicious lit and sly
under ice cream skies of summer nights
doing dishes wash and dry
with bandages blood and bathroom lights
we used to fist fight over stars
give grecian names to every spark
your roman nose and acne scars
thats a start for feynmans broken heart
met your boy didn't catch his name
but i talked with him til the weather took the flame
we talked of wool of power and pain
but my own pain is that he remains
early to the party for the end of the world
tommy's in the kitchen looking for his girl
otis redding pleading baby baby please
christmas lights on bookshelves and bedroom mysteries
its almost always almost raining in this city
|
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