1. |
Jeanbreaker
02:40
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Last night I took the old way home
Past the place I used to know
Where I misspent my youth
and learned how to live alone
I count my blessings on one hand
It seems like a lifetime ago
since I put arm through the glass of the back door
twenty-four stitches
and the scars to prove
that I'm above that trash
Sneaking out the window to meet girls and light off fireworks
or just to breathe without asking first
to count my sins and my few wins, or to drag my name through the dirt
I count my blessings on one hand
I know these streets well enough to walk them blind
I tip my hat to simpler times
to count my sins and my few wins
and to drag my name through the dirt
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2. |
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This star next to my nametag doesn't mean a thing to me
I'm just a smile and a nod
With elbow grease and youth decreased
jammed into place a jigsaw piece
a big fish in a shrinking sea
Keep in mind this kind of shit, it happens all the time
and if we ever tow the line, it's because there's no one but us
and if this sinking ship prevails in showing that we are worthless
oh, heaven, help us all
When it's time for the piper to get paid
you give me the wink and the gun, let me dig my basement grave
My paperless curse may be my saving grace,
if I can detach my heart
from the tribes of my summer faith
Keep in mind this kind of shit, it happens all the time
and if we ever tow the line, it's because there's no one but us
and if this sinking ship prevails in showing that we are worthless
oh, heaven, help us all
Heaven help us
When it's my time I'll leave them in better hands than mine
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3. |
Long Walk Home
03:19
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Oh St. Jude, won't you find me? A lost cause somewhere in between Waltham and Fenway. It's a long walk home, my steps are slow; the streetlights are turning off for the night and I've got miles left to go. And it's a long walk home. And that barroom was just as jammed as a fresh pack of cigarettes. I shook myself loose and stumbled out for a smoke in the night and a break from the crowd. Well, you know that once I start drinking I'm not much for judging distances. Saw Lansdowne bar crowds in front of me. Felt fight or flight and beat a swift retreat. Pounding pavement for block after block, counting steps and progress slow. Dawn's breaking free of the Pike out East and I've got miles left to go. And all my worst habits defined a course, from overpass to overpass, described on a plumb line; down-bound in precision measured increments. That's the way it's always been.
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4. |
Orc Life
01:45
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Caught in the middle of a shit-storm blackout
Communication never was so easy, and yet so hard
Boomers hanging on to shredded threads
Generation X is so depressed
and the Y's are entertained by new machines
exchanging all their dreams for animated friends
and I can see the end
Whatever was on the wall before doesn't matter anymore
Painted over and long forgotten
and just like us, History is rotting
Boomers hanging on to shredded threads
Generation X is so depressed
and the Y's are entertained by new machines
exchanging all their dreams for animated friends
and I can see the end
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5. |
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Last night there was a big, big storm
and every time lightning would strike we'd yell
'that's the end of the world over there'
if you were home there'd be someone to assure
You say it's not me, it's just the season for freedom
but I don't believe in the words that come out of your mouth
One day I'm gonna wakeup
gonna find out it's a sick, sick joke
you've been playing on me all along
despite the hurricanes you have always been the calm
You say it's not me, it's just the season for freedom
but I don't believe in the words that come out of your mouth
it's a sick, sick joke that you've been playing on me
Hurricanes
You say it's not me, it's just the season for freedom
but I don't believe in the words that come out of your mouth
it's a sick, sick joke that you've been playing on me
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6. |
Still Life
02:34
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I can't hardly wait for this street-worn snow to fail
The cold, sharp knife of January nights is laughing at my neck
I can't hardly wait
I'm chomping at the bit
take me off the leash of the dead season
and we wait, and we wait
Winter winds do little but remind me
that these apartment walls are paper thin
Rationing the dwindling dreams
to get me through to the thaw
It makes it a little easier
listening to summer songs
Crossing off the weeks until the old man calls it quits
shows us some respect and lets us live
I can't hardly wait
I'm chomping at the bit
take me off the leash of the dead season
Winter winds do little but remind me
that these apartment walls are paper thin
Rationing the dwindling dreams
to get me through to the thaw
It makes it a little easier
listening to summer songs
The still life is over
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7. |
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Shithole by any other name wouldn't fit these streets
bad habits bequeathed from generation to generation
through cracks in concrete
while a failing heart works beneath the city
Spoken in silent nods and shifting eyes
empty words making a pathetic excuse for small town pride
One day I know the tide will
Wash it all away
I'm sure that the land will thank the water for the favor
of sinking the peninsula to the ocean floor
Familiar egos entrenched since delinquents
roamed these streets and called them home
with the archaic sense that we own
that which we were born into
responsible for the mess that grew
I'm not exempt from the rules
just ashamed that I'm a part of you
Wash it all away
I'm sure that the land will thank the water for the favor
of sinking the peninsula to the ocean floor
We all suffer from fairly regular delusions
of mediocrity and hopes that we might leave
our little towns behind with no record of our lies
I'll see you all on the ocean floor
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8. |
Paper Trails
02:22
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Writing after the page has been torn out
no doubt
is the hardest thing I've ever done
Now I stare at a blank page future
without a story to tell
Scrawls in the sand of a never ending drought
dust weighed pound for pound
there's luggage from London I've forgotten about
On paper, you live like salt in the wound
ticket stubs, letters and your missing shoes,
paper trails to nowhere
Despite our plans and history
there'll be no stories left to tell
so I bid you a fond farewell
You left me no options
but to pack my words and run
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9. |
Black Hearts
02:36
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I can't comprehend the chants and incantations
the white-knuckle grip on the talismans that let them sleep at night
So well-rehearsed at manipulating chapter and verse
Conviction in a fiction, untested and unquestioned
Black hearts, the mold you were cut from wasn't so empty and scared
Black hearts, denying the rage in your soul
As TV crews came to document a protest around a flag-draped casket
I saw a shit-spewing horde holding signs and chanting slogans
Preaching all of their perversions as camera's apertures swallowed the scene
Descending on a family, preying on their grief
Black hearts, the mold you were cut from wasn't so empty and scared
Black hearts, denying the rage in your soul
I hope your doctrine lands on salted soil
I hope its roots shrivel and die
There'll be no eulogies for your kind
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10. |
Compass Rose
02:31
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Plot your course, set your sail for exotic winds across the waves
Dreaming of distant shores, wanna leave the sands of home
One things for sure, you're gonna sail these seas alone
Rope 'em in, tie them up and take the wheel
take the cargo and detach, it doesn't matter how you feel
Cast my luck to the briny deeps, let the currents carry me
one things for sure, gonna sail these seas alone
You've succumbed to the Siren's song
You'll be lost before too long
You'll be lost
Should you find yourself marooned with only drink to keep you sane
dreaming of familiar faces, but the details smudge by the sponge of memory
and you long for home again, wish you remembered the way
one things for sure, gonna sail these seas alone
I hope you keep this compass close to your chest when you sail these seas alone
You've succumbed to the Siren's song
You'll be lost before too long
You'll be lost
You'll be lost
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11. |
Berry/Bar Conundrum
02:37
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August winds had wound me south. I kissed the outskirts of your town. Dreamed I ran my palm along your knee. Came to in a Greyhound bus at the mercy of geography. And the interstate rolled away. Through the haze and exhaust I filled my lungs and almost called your name. It felt foreign on my thick tongue and I knew that another chance had passed and I said nothing; sat silent like I’ve always done. I kept a drawer full of your letters. Buried each word like a treasure. Saw the mid-Atlantic fade away inside a rearview. Oh how I wish I was near you. Nothing ventured; nothing gained. Close to the vest, played safe. Sitting on my hands is just a sort of tradition.
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