1. |
Erica
00:41
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2. |
Water
02:02
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In the water, did we have names? Did we know who we were? With our voices, did we speak words like lightning's thunder? Did I call you brother sayin, "isn't it tranquil?" Brethren, I got lonely. Sister, I got tired. Family, where've you been? When in the lovely space, where we could see each other, came the static of my lies. Engine gas was filling colors. We are more than markings. We are no baseball players printed on baseball cards. We're more than etchings, brother, sister. I didn't know what to do. I was flabbergasted to breathe thick air like an alien machine, ticking, ticking, selfishly. Family, in the lovely space, where we could see each other, came the static of my lies. Engine gas was filling colors. We are more than markings. We are no baseball players printed on baseball cards. We're more than etchings, brother.
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3. |
Baseball
03:21
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You were there, as there as you could be. And when I felt that I could breathe, opened my mouth, but I was choking on all the air to breathe. And all in the city, they were singin in Chinese. And I saw you stare without my heart feelin a thing. Were we not like lightning, longing to see? Aw but I was covered with orange. Everything was orange. And the hard morning told that it couldn't be so.
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4. |
Captain Lonely Man
00:28
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And now where everyone can see, it's Captain Lonely Man. So give it up, if you please, for Captain Lonely Man. Do you want him dead or alive? It's Captain Lonely Man. Thank you very much, Captain Lonely Man.
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5. |
Wednesday
02:05
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6. |
Kathryn
03:27
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I still remember the night when my eyes first saw you, when I forgot all my words, like futile chords washed away by an essential orchestra. Did we not dance the floor as no two danced before? It felt pure when my eyes saw you. They never saw the same ever since that night, Kathryn. It sounded true. Was I not ready to sing vastly as the sky? Were we not dancing over my lonesome years, sixteen old, my eyes blue, yours hazel-gold? In this freakish world, you're like a graceful song. But I fell back onto my own steps. Kathryn, I fell in a panic. For it felt true on our dance floor, like a ship, too beautiful to leave the shore, no chorus, no words. But I fell back with a daunting path before my feet. The waves behind me, a symphony singing Kathryn, Kathryn, Kathryn....
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7. |
Four Directions
01:42
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I been seeing people in four directions. I been seeing people in a great big puddle. But you stand pure. Who are you? Am I a child anymore? Were you only a voice inside my head? Only a kind voice inside my head? Were you only a voice inside my head? A very kind voice inside my head? I've been saying sentimental words about my childhood. I've been singing petty lines about how your graceful. What could I say that you are graceful as? When I was a child I wasn't a smart ass. But I'm not a child anymore. I've been seeing things in four directions. I've been noticing four seasons. But you stand pure. Who are you? Am I a child anymore? Am I a child anymore?...
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8. |
Dino-bones
02:26
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In the bathroom, how the toilet circles. In the kitchen, utensils scary. You talk pretty. Your eyes consume me. You talk like some kind of X-ray machine. Is that my rib bone in the middle of your nose? Dino-bones ain't painful. Dino-bones could never hurt. Inside of you's like pebbles and pebbles of different colors. Can you talk peaceful? Can you happy-smile? What kind of peaceful sentence can you say? Angry men have put on monocles and grown mustaches, hoping that I won't smile. How could I not smile? How could I not smile?
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9. |
Thomas Merton
01:11
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He wrote on paper. And his words were sweet as honey, but they leave the tummy sour. And a malt beer in the woods can be good for a man. A malt beer in the woods can be good for a man. And his words were sweet as honey, but they leave the tummy sour.
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10. |
Essential Progress
02:23
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"Have a great life." You wrote me that years ago. I was such an asshole and I didn't get to ask, am I allowed to think of you? I didn't get to beg, if you're lookin for the truth, don't run away. Don't run, I long to speak with you. Maybe we could speak freely with our voices. Maybe I wouldn't be scorned with arrogance. Maybe I would know that I am dust, chockablock with happiness, and overflowin with happiness. I didn't get to ask, now who will I ever get to tell this to - "I long to touch you and no one else." Am I allowed to think of you? There is a small chance that someday we will be together. So if we spoke to each other, with our voices, maybe we could make essential progress, like conveyer belt sidewalks for all of those who have no limbs. And I wouldn't be scorned with arrogance. Maybe I would know that am dust, chockablock with happiness, and overflowin with happiness, and filled to brim with happiness, and overflowin with happiness.
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