1. |
Air Conditioning
01:26
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Well, I was in the one room
And you were in the next room in front of the fan.
I know that Tucson's too hot, but I'm too cheap to run the air conditioning.
Well, I was in the one room,
Writing a song too vague to really describe you.
You know it's for you.
I don't have to tell you because I'm fucking transparent.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor,
I inch my feet a yard to the open door between us,
Looking for you if you're looking for me.
Well, you did not see my smiling face
But you heard my songtoovague.
Darlin', with your face in the freezer
You look so in love.
Darlin', with your face in the freezer
You look so in love with me.
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2. |
Salvia Is Legal
03:42
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Overhearing guests from our bathtub partymess.
We survived the gust, the glide, the ends of our lives.
I'm not sleeping. Please stop drinking.
You remind me of the Mary Chain,
And I'm like Pavement:
Nothing rhymes with Alex Whelan.
I'd bet your name fits.
Who's to say we both belong here anyway?
Not me, and not you.
Open up! I'm coming with you.
I'm so pretty and you're so pretty.
Let's get lost in western cities.
I'm not going home,
I came from there this morning.
Is this thing on? Recording live:
The end of all time.
I'm not sleeping, and you're still drinking.
Who's to say we both belong here anyway?
Not me, and not you.
Open up. I'm coming with you.
I'm so pretty and you're so pretty.
Let's get lost in western cities.
I'm not kidding.
When the times get tough we'll canonize ourselves.
When the stuff runs out I'll call The Guy myself.
I'm so apocryphal.
I'm so heretical.
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3. |
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I've been hanging around the college scene for a while but all I found
Was caviar and party clowns.
You know me or you don't.
I've never been all that loud.
I've been thinking about the way the culture deals with sex
And the specks of dust that make us up.
After all, I made this whole thing up.
I know how hard it is to find
The perfect kind of metaphor
For how it feels to be so sure
That nothing lasts.
I'm falling madly in love with Sylvia Plath.
I called it quits. My syntax fix hurt my heart.
Now I'll never try so hard to write a masterpiece of young adult fiction.
I want a poet. I want her sexy diction.
I want her to write me poems in her sleep.
I'm in so Goddamned deep.
I see her everywhere I go: in the punk rock clubs,
In the hippies' smoke,
In the Hobo Joes.
I know how hard it is to find
The perfect kind of metaphor
For how it feels to be so sure
That nothing lasts.
I'm falling in love.
C'mon and breathe.
Can you breathe in that bottle, baby.
I know how hard it is to find
The perfect kind of metaphor
For how it feels to be so sure
That nothing lasts
Because I'm falling in love.
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4. |
Doomsday
03:15
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Admittedly I'm checking online every hour on the hour just to see
If my Judgement's made the front screen.
These prophecies seem to me a mix of honest fears and mystery
I can't help but believe.
I know you think I'm crazy.
What a drag. Smoke in hand, I'm staring tragically above me
Just to seem deep in thought.
If we die late tonight I pray the moon goes blind.
But who's to say. I'm no praying man anyway.
Dream of me
Half-asleep
With a pillow in between your arms
You make believe is me.
Dream of me
And we'll see
If the morning has faith left in me
To be the guy you stayed young for.
Don't forget me like you did the names of constellations.
Don't forget me like you did the night we drank your sister's wine.
Oh dear Christ.
Admittedly, I was slightly shocked the day before you left
When you finally wore your contacts.
I never doubted it was you.
Something wild inside me knew
I've got a long way still
With you if you'll let me.
Interesting, this deep thinking.
When I picture you, I finally picture your whole face.
Now when I look in the sky,
All I see are two great big grey eyes
Because clouds don't have frames;
Only shapes and pretty faces
Of the places that we'll go
When you come back.
Come back.
Dream of me
Half-asleep
With a pillow in between your arms
You make believe is me.
Dream of me
And we'll see
If the morning has faith left in me
To be the guy you stayed young for.
Don't forget me like you did the names of constellations.
Don't forget me like you did the night we drank your sister's wine.
Oh dear Christ.
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5. |
Harpo
04:46
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Who ever said that you need a voice to be
The star of an opera?
Who ever said that you need blue eyes to be
The star of the show?
Honey, I'll be right there with my silent words of love.
You, stunning, laugh in my face and say,
"Make my day."
Who ever said that a clown doesn't have needs,
A conscience or worries?
All I am trying to say is, "Darlin', who needs
A voice when you've got
A melody so uniquely complete
That I wrote it myself on a harp?"
But you're laughing at everything that I do.
I'm whistling for you.
I'm sending you kisses so blue.
Do you dare me to speak?
Do you double dog dare me to speak?
Do you trippple dog dare me to speak?
I've realized that sometimes
Words aren't enough.
Who ever said that you need a voice to be
The star of an opera?
Who ever said that you need blue eyes to be
The star of the show?
Honey, I'll be right there with my silent words of love.
You, stunning, laugh in my face.
"Laugh it off."
I'm whistling for you.
I'm sending you kisses so blue.
Do you dare me to speak?
Do you double dog dare me to speak?
Do you trippple dog dare me to speak?
I've realized that sometimes
Words aren't enough.
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6. |
Sycamore Lane
02:59
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Sweetheart you pick your homes
Just like you throw your stones:
On your own.
I am so sick of home.
Train tickets like these were meant for me to go,
But now I'm tired and I'm stressed
And completely overdressed
For the springtime.
When you call me at the office and say,
"Come on home,"
I try to remember where we live
But I don't know yet.
You say you miss me and you're homesick.
Sycamore Ln.
You say it's a fancy hotel I've never heard of.
"Don't worry, it's already paid for."
I say, "Great. That's just what I need."
More debt is just what I need.
But I know you well enough to know your smile over the phone,
And if I were you I'd be pretty sick of me by now.
It's a good thing that I'm not you.
When you call me at the office and say,
"Come on home,"
I try to remember where we live
But I don't know yet.
You say you miss me and you're homesick.
Sycamore Ln.
All the rain will say is, "No parade today."
This house has character but it's kind of lame.
You say you like your houses
Just like you like your husbands.
"So smile."
I love you remembered my record player,
My favorite 45.
I love you remembered yourself.
I love you remembered I love fireplaces.
When you call me at the office and say,
"Come on home,"
I try to remember where we live
But I don't know yet.
You say you miss me and you're homesick.
Sycamore Ln.
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7. |
Sempiternal
04:24
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When I walk outside, I see a line
That takes me where I want to go.
Sometimes I don't walk straight.
When I read for fun, I'm caught off-guard
By the sex, the death, to what extent
All that really matters.
We're not focused.
You finally fell asleep.
I'm so glad that you were dreaming.
Never been a birthday king,
But as the day goes by it seems
My crown remains untouched.
Chained along the fence.
The mud, I'm spent.
The branches bend and rip your dress,
But some knots can't stay severed.
You slept at home that night.
I'm behind the scrimmage line.
So glad that you weren't playing.
So glad that you were dreaming.
Simple knot, you're not simple
Now.
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8. |
Mississippi Nights
02:32
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I've been trying to sleep but the storm outside
Is loud and it's hot and it's bright.
I'm pretty sure we're all going to die.
Here we go.
The dolphins on the gulf are all dancing in the salt,
And the frogs are croaking outside like it's mid-1990s lo-fi.
The birds are all whirring into flight.
I'm pretty sure they're just trying to survive.
Here we go.
Here it comes.
One more night.
One more night alive in Mississippi.
All the southern belles,
In the Baptist hells,
I'm pretty sure they're all going to die.
Here we go.
Here it comes.
One more night.
One more night alive in Mississippi.
Nights alone in Mississippi.
No more nights in Mississippi.
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9. |
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I know where green grass grows and singers shave and show their age.
They're bopping hardcore to heavy thrash,
It's all the same. It's all that fast.
You lost me with your talking about the Exodus.
I was always content to let all you people get upset about that.
What do you mean, "You people"?!
Don't mind people. Don't mind me, man.
I'm so nervous.
I'm so nervous now.
"La la la la la la la la la la la la"
Is all you said
When you asked me if I was dead already.
It's not that likely.
You heard me coming down the zip line.
But paper cups don't wear well.
The phone's wet now.
Don't call me, Mom.
I'm so nervous.
I'm so nervous now.
Ain't no doubt about it,
We were barely twenty-two.
Whoop-dee-doo.
And now you're telling me
That I'm as smart as you.
Well, that's true.
The car's still running,
And we're bumming around here
Like we've got nothing to do.
I'm so nervous.
I'm so nervous now.
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10. |
Readership As Author
04:15
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Well I'm all bogged down, holy crow.
You're a bag of cells, eukaryote.
My clothes look like Golgotha
On the floor in a pile of bones.
They hate me at the Circle K.
It's a time-wasting sacrificial rite
Debating happiness in line.
It gets no one their donuts.
Everyone is shattered, torn asunder.
I read my own way.
Slice that hip don't dope
From his zoetrope woe.
White sky, everyone is high.
I spent last night writing out my life
Like it was an epic Greek poem.
New jazz age online.
Everyone is shattered, torn asunder.
I read my own way.
I'm so glad you're reading again,
Even Hemingway.
I might be wrong, I haven't read them all.
You read your own way.
Slice this Southern Gothic
From his grotesque situation.
I really can't think straight
Through the slots on the subway.
We're fine fleshy shapes.
I stay up late
Almost every day.
Most artists say
It keeps the chills away.
But I never had the visions
And I never felt the inspiration.
So now I'm just slipping away.
I'm slipping away.
I really can't see straight
Through the slots on the subway.
We're fine fleshy shapes.
I'm aiming at the past.
I'm staring straight through the glass.
You're a molecule like me,
Quivering towards Elysium.
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11. |
Catholic Guilt
03:54
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Crowded in the corner,
Hands too close together.
Writing in the corners of my only notebook.
I was practicing the prayers I knew.
You were tearing them apart like somebody had paid you to.
When they annotate
All the plans we made,
All the scholars'll say,
"Guess they were rebellious from the start."
Catholic guilt stays on my mind.
I alone come to tell thee
Of the story of a family
Who spent every day
Between the baby and the easter bunny.
When they annotate
All the plans we made,
All the scholars'll say,
"Who were they to tear it all in half?"
Catholic guilt stays on my mind.
Well, maybe I was seeing things,
Yeah, but she came to me
On 4th Ave. at a hookah bar
On my birthday.
Black cat makeup and a dried bloody nose,
That's all I can remember
And that's all I really know.
But she said that she was hurting
And I said that I had heard her.
She asked me about the clocks
That are trying to murder me.
I got up and left and she got up and left
And God only knows what it takes to get up
In the morning.
Catholic guilt stays on my mind.
My mind. My mind. My mind.
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