1. |
In the Beginning
04:30
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In the beginning the Father made the sun and the moon
lit up without being told to and I
realize I'm not a part of any plans unless I made them.
Those sorts of plans seem just out of reach. I've been looking
in the woods and digging up old games.
In the beginning it seemed as though nothing would change.
Hanging off your family tree,
waking up to the world news. Some day
you will sort through boxes in your old room. You’re gonna have to,
but right now
you’re living off the grid with all expenses paid for. It’ll all
give away to something more worthwhile. At least try
this tried and true life for a while
and then go.
Go do whatever you want to.
You didn’t
brush against me like a house cat on a couch leg. You hit me
so direct I felt drunk, like I could
rest all night with your hands crossed neatly on my chest.
I see a path laid out before me.
The little icons in the orthodox church say
In the beginning the Father made the Son and the earth bleed.
He said "Go."
Go do whatever you want to.
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2. |
Wildfire (Intro)
02:37
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I knew he would be following
when I heard the door slide open behind me but
I didn’t even stop for my shoes.
So the walk to the road was painful,
but the air was warm like slipping off wet clothes
and I knew that he was right behind me
and I told him
“It was just that stupid thing your brother said
and yeah I know I shouldn’t take it so personal, but
how could someone be such an idiot
It’s been like this since we first met.
He treats me like I’m just some kid
you’ve been hanging with and sleeping with.
I don’t mean to ask you to pick a side, but
you can’t even really deny it, can you?
He’ll never accept that I’m in your life.”
Then I felt like I was being too forward.
I wanted nothing more than to be alone,
and I wished he would just stop and go home
instead of tailing me out to the fucking road.
I couldn’t believe he came out here just to hear it
or that I once saw myself as his wife.
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3. |
Wildfire
04:21
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I won’t deny it. There is music
shaking in the words you choose,
but it’s got nothing to do with you.
Like the rain crawls up through the roots,
like the tide pools pull at the moon,
it’s got nothing to do with you.
It’s the poetry I lent to you,
it’s the quiet I pulled out of you,
the way my leaving felt like charity.
It was the pointed rocks of the gravel drive
that tore up the soles of my feet.
It’s nothing to do with you
You did not pursue
the conversation didn’t feel like it used to.
I could not say why,
but the silence burned like a wildfire.
I stormed out of the house
with you close behind me
I wished you would just stop and go home
It was the white pines sifting the evening light—
that gray sheet of piss-stained sky.
I felt the pressure on my head release.
We paused at a bend in the road
where it skirts the edge of a meadow.
I turned around to look at you and say
“I don’t expect you to change,
I guess we just get so stuck in our own grooves.
I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
You did not reply.
the conversation just didn’t feel right.
I could not say what it was.
You did not reply.
Something half-formed you couldn’t verbalize
got stuck in your sternum
and the silence burned like a wildfire.
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4. |
Footwear
04:15
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I wish I knew how you could be so sure of all your arguments
you certainly gave a stiff handshake / I thought you'd rip my
shoulder off at the collarbone / I wish I resolved / to be alone
is not what it used to be / it's a touchscreen I placed face-side
down on the table so that I don't have to see / made plans for
the weekend / summer high / some of your closest friends,
they fizzled up like hot pavement / jumbled up and imperfect
you see it now too / driving home you slip into a reverie / an
even and fluid mood / moving with the rhythm you laid so
carefully out in cobblestone / when I was alone I kept a clutch
of company deep inside my chest / when I came back home
it was a bit jarring / like I had nothing left to look forward to
I wonder what you'd do in my shoes / I need more footwear
now more than ever before / now the front yard is a field of
snow I can't cross without leaving deep footprints
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5. |
Head Trip
03:26
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I'm a head trip. I've lost sense of what is real.
I'm being careful not to be full of shit,
but it is difficult to stop myself when I lose my self-conscience,
when I lose myself completely in the whirling of a party
and I'll tell myself that's not me when I wake up the next morning
just like a hundred days before this and
the spring is slowly rising
and the truth is I am never really sure.
I'm a head trip. I could say the same of so many others.
I'm a head trip, but I could say the same of some of my friends
and I want them to see me how I want them to see me.
I want to get out of my head. I want to learn the names of the trees
with their limbs bowing over me, with a crowd of people watching
with a year seeping to their roots
with the spring slowly passing.
the fact is I am never really sure.
I'm a head trip.
Just when I thought I couldn't think anymore. Just when the pressure on my head
felt like it was just too much to take and I lay covering my eyes on my bed.
Just as the slow drip of the afternoon passes on like a comb through my hair
as if tomorrow is just a theory that could prove what's always been there
The truth is I am never really sure.
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6. |
The Same to Us
04:23
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