1. |
Diana
03:18
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Diana had the clouds in her eyes
and the long road lay stretched out behind
just from something she said, we've deduced that she's fine:
we're lazy things with no presence of mind
Diana, you shoot straight and true
to the southeast, we now find your arrow
its perihelion arc, in your voice rough and low:
much too good for the creatures below
but oh, Diana! no one ever writes songs for you.
well here's one. I can't fathom why no one could follow through.
oh heartbreak, oh fruitless
hard and cold now outside
you might say crooked, it's not yours to decide
Diana, is god all you need?
what lofty solitude laps at your feet?
what took from your arms all your young charges meet?
nothing earthly, no one could have seen.
well Diana she stands now on high
and she's clothed in symmetrical lines
all the laws stay the same anywhere you might find
she holds fast to the center and rides
but oh, Diana! no one ever writes songs for you.
and those crystalline orbs which once encircled and carried you
'mongst the company of stars
they have writ you a plan
you might say crooked
you are certain I am.
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2. |
Little Brother
03:46
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you tell yourself with every arrow. i've been told 1000 times. sometimes lucky, moved by wrong intentions: they're immense and of a million kinds.
i'm sick, don't bother me now. it waxes and wanes by some alien logic. everything fell open to that. a fertile process, not choice but chance.
the child was taunted by immortal anguish. his brother's weeping specter passed. now he's grown into all the fur and vigor. flailing arms and fleeting weightlessness.
it's right thought, right action. inconclusive from what we now have. every problem yielded to that; one day we'll know and we'll leave nothing to chance.
the child was all unwarranted malice. he quickly learned to feel regret. still undaunted by the millionth crossing. far and further than what time excepts.
i know you know. don't follow, follow while you still can. you're the last one, you uphold the mantle. it's no one's fault, just as luck would have it.
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3. |
Never Enough
03:56
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an inexorable force rolls over our heads
an apology that binds like a shovel that rends
somewhere in the shade and wet, that peregrine cries for an erstwhile friend
the summer rolls on, voids shrink and expand
it's pure fucking umbrage meets total offense
it's crippled by more but i've been crippled by less
good times were had
but all the yellowhaired trinkets you called to your hand were never enough
they never will be
you're not what i thought, not even the first time
just a dull, foolish child; all the grassy green hides
but in high mimicry i still try to become everything that i see
to hide behind farce
an invertebrate screen
some degree of dishonesty should have kept the ball spinning
some want to spend their lives gasping
some spend their time winning
but against greed and cold, you were only a fire that had run out of wood
left out in the rain without purpose or use
half of all of my pride the whole world knows is stolen
gone to make myths of mere rakes
themselves lost and broken
oh, these frivolous wastes!
may they grow by their egos sustained
i want nothing from you, i relinquish my place
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4. |
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5. |
Song of the Firstborn
03:48
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that's the feeling right before you go; i would wait an aeon, maybe never will i know. 100 forlorn miles and a handful of the same in years, the beast will flee and there'll be no-one left to blame.
'cause i know how your eyes look when you drink; i would know your voice across 1000 miles of weeds. i would know the rolls between the spaces 'tween your teeth. but i suppose that more is left for you than was ever meant for me.
and that's my own burden. one lives on through their children. with empty flesh like diamonds, greying eyes that talk of water, many focused ramps and hurdles, many riders of our coattails: well, so long as i remember this, i know i cannot fail.
that's the thought you had out on the road, when there's no-one there beside you to sew buttons on your coat. that's the smiling answer to the stuttering letters sent. exhausted and alone but it is always worth the trip.
and there's nothing in this aging world that you would trade for it.
'cause she's not a burden. she shoulders what she once was. and what we shoulder, dear, is all the solitude of bending, all the pincushions and buttons, 1000 forlorn miles of mending to sew the nights and sounds of crickets: may they go and be unending.
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6. |
Borrower
03:49
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no one's home, you cut your hair. the sixteenth dawns, light eyed and fair. the town you crossed, to wait for signals, for architects of despair. a feat of math, a deadening noise, in the fishbowls with all the boys; the sun is weight, it eats (like cronus) what little progress it makes.
but we only grow older. we love to waste time.
destroyed your hands, your claw and tooth, the time's still yours to waste or lose. it's over now, descends into a still more glittering miasma. and you're a fool, and i'm a fool - what trouble there? it's mutual. no solid ground to make a final point to take heart and go on.
but we only grow older. we love to waste time.
a borrower, a plagiarist, you comely demons, hand over fist, you give a mile and take an inch of what she's got left to go on. and you still smile, flash waiting wrists, your dirty shirt thick with regrets. that day you learned, but now you've really learned what insular meant.
but we only grow older. we love to waste time.
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7. |
Begging Song
02:13
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take you, let it numb you, let it peel from your eyes the unfathomable depths
and this time, for the last time, we might never be friends but it'll always be mine
and the faster you leave babe, the faster i'll follow
and ruin a good thing, one that clings like a barnacle
don't go to bed yet, forget the last time i saw you, make room in yourself for the dead
this is all i've got left, the words for one more letter
best of luck out there darlin i hope it gets better
and this time, for the first time, i'll staunch the emptiness without confusing the signs
and maybe, someday, this'll be solid, but right now i'll keep it amorphous, dishonest, still sore from the beating, still crying in corners, let the letters come take hold of me
when the circle finds its center, blasts a hole in the void you'd give limbs to forget
it's no sweeter, so much smaller than the vinegar taste of the flesh in your hands
and hungry and screaming it severs its tail, crawls free from its lecherous, homewrecking self, i'll receive naught, only pay you in questions, and cough out my final goodbyes.
but oh darlin please be kind. and don't you pay me no nevermind, but i'm begging you don't leave me here.
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