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Counting Sands
03:20
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This is an offering from empty hands rubbed raw from counting sands / Love given freely in a world wet wringing with, “What can you offer me?” / Well I’m offering honesty and the truth is that I need you just as much as you need me so breath and have compassion for your fellow human beings so we can find where we were always meant to be / I’ll try to speak with my hands because my word never lingers / Every letter that I used just left you confused and looked more crooked than my fingers / My tongue is a fool / If my wits are so sharp why can’t I cut it out? / Sometimes these glyphs that hang from my lips are the only gifts left to be given from such a lonely singer / When I look at you I like to think you’re not so different from me / We both have hopes and we both have dreams so we toss and turn when we can’t sleep / I want to say whatever I need to bring you that much closer to me / A version of the truth on which we agree so we can finally find where we were meant to be
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2. |
Heavy For Half A Guy
03:18
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It gets hard to face the days / To carve out shapes from the rain or dive down on the rocks for reasons you can’t explain / I’m mute, I’m dumb / Finger and thumb, my flesh is a gun so tie me up / So I don’t hurt myself or hurt anyone else while watching and waiting my eyes roll like dice / I run, crack my chest like my heart’s in a vice / My rough hands touch smooth skin but couldn’t take your advice / I tried to speak of love but I am mute, I’m dumb / Finger and thumb, my flesh is a gun so tie me up / I tend to learn the hard way you can’t live life reading between the lines / You can’t see beauty between the blinds / And if you would be so kind I could always use a reminder what’s important / I’m miserable sometimes too / I’ve thought long and hard about how to die / And why not let go of the wheel, smile, wait for the other side / After all the stories we’ve been told it can still be Heaven for you and I
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3. |
Joan of Art
02:33
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Eyes like yours cast so much judgment / I’ve seen it a thousand times before and what makes it worse is I was almost sure that stare from you meant something more than all these words I write on pages / No matter what I don’t know how to say this / So how can I put this so you understand? / With you I’m color / If not I’m bland / With you I’m color / Without I’m bland (What’d you say with the words I know, what’d you say with the words I don’t, I would rather look than fucking sink) / Stinging pools of lips and wrist / Of laughing teeth and frames I’ve missed / Wish I could feel the way it seems when you look at me / Mirrored interest and points distracted by dialogue / I am list and traits and bones that stick around like knives / Use me to clean up this mess I didn’t make / A rag to lap up every dent in the misspent days / Press me in glass and I will stay this way
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4. |
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Too tired / Everybody wants to sleep but no one dares to dream / It’ll take us too far / So difficult to conceive why it’s so easy for everyone to just believe in something all because life is so hard / (I pause from what has happened here, these are the thoughts that cloud my mind, this is the way we disappear, this is what I want not what I need, or some putrid piss of finer things, so I’ve got to know where the problem’s sown, before I’m standing on my own) / Harsh though it may be I’m still convinced it’s alive and green / But they tell us that it’s barren / Never question or compare / So that they can sell us each our own oasis/ Perfectly made just to be broken so only they can replace it / I want to see what you have made and laid your hands upon / Whatever makes you dream and still believe in taking chances / We have uncovered through jagged teeth our dreams deferred, an old belief / We have uncovered through jagged teeth our dreams deferred, a hope beneath
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5. |
Stationary
02:51
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I’m sick of writing and not getting very far / The bottom of the page feels miles away / My fingers are broken ankles / My pen a lung of tar / I write, rewrite, erase until the poem is a scar / Do you remember when words came easy? / We were younger then and not half as afraid as I am now for whatever lies ahead / I see a coast line / I’m wading out into an ocean of ink / A tangle of mangled words hangs around my knees / There’s a stanza standing on my chest just before a flood of syllables lays my synapse to rest / Writing ‘til there is no ink left / Should have been writing / Trapped left of the indent / Should have been writing but if the words are meaningless then there’s no fucking point to all of this scribbled scratching / Words are void
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6. |
Keeping Time
03:44
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I keep a steady pace behind your ghost with burning calves and frozen lungs that still try to say your name / You keep a special place in my hopes with teaching hands and guiding ropes / I still try to sing your song / Well I used to hear your voice when I prayed down on my knees at your grave finding peace in a reunion through grace / But now I only see your face in the blurry passing of pastures and trees / And I can hear sweat dripping as far as the hallways of my mind / Where your nickname echoes loudly and so often all the time that I still think that every sound is a sign / And every note is sweet if only kept in (time) / I miss my friend / We didn’t have long / No, we didn’t have long / I miss my friend / We didn’t have long but we’ve still got the end
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7. |
Instrumental
02:05
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8. |
Asphalt
05:20
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“She looks sort of like my first love,” says the man to his feet while they walk down broken bottle streets in another new city / What good is it to brag about the peace you’ve found when you’ve always admired the search? / I guess the burden of being lonely can’t be outweighed shaking hands and stealing sleep between state lines / What was I looking for? / Because I think I found myself / And I like it here at least for now / Stealing sleep between state lines / What were we looking for? / Because I think we found ourselves / And we like it here at least for now / (Dear God, It’s such a lovely sight, it’s been four years since I feel in love, and five years since I gave a fuck, and I can’t believe, that this world is full of pretty things that you can’t see, if you just try, and that’s what I did, I felt the road open the way to me, through the window with my friends, and we’ll just, drive to the next city it’s okay, don’t need a map we’ll find our own way, leave the world behind, and keep life off our minds) / Waiting on a corner I see the buildings are the same / Only the names have changed / Sand through an asphalt hourglass / Sun through a black painted window pane / This town / These roads / All routes and paths unknown / Drive past the lost part of my soul right where I left it years ago / Sidewalks shrink and fade away / Horizons promise us better days of endless hills where trees still laze and something golden finally stays / Cities sink back to the earth where things regain their original worth / A broken seal that has finally learned a song to sing that quells the hurt
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Tir Asleen Calhoun, Georgia
Five noble knights from a far away land on a sacred quest to bring the noise.
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