1. |
I Can Hardly Wait
03:14
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I can hardly wait.
These dreams do not abate: I saw you Sunday in the park, "oh poor George," your looks remark.
We watched the waning of the moon.
I wonder how we sang in tune to the songs I bet you now forget, the ones you said you hadn't listened to yet.
Proust would say I told you so, that unrequited love's the only muse I've known.
It's an egregious claim given seeds I've sown, but in your heart my anchor caught and it's kept me in tow.
I just hate distance of time and space we've spent apart, weighs heavy on my heart - and you can call me crazy - but I still love you baby.
No, I can't get down from this frame from which I'm hung.
These dot blots aggregate, while my vision's blurry lachrymose impressions are at best Renoir's not Georges Seurat's.
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2. |
Cut It Out
02:51
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Cut it out, stop the sepsis from sinking fangs.
Draw it out, before venom's coursing through your veins.
You've ignored the signs: high water marks on jetty rocks, and moored boats at docks turning with the tide.
This haunted Light's bewitched your thoughts and like a moth you'll meet a quick demise.
I can't seem to swim these days.
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3. |
Pardon, Patience
03:35
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Pardon, patience please while I disguise these notes in melody,
which mediates a means for me to conquer demon deeds.
Catatonic concentration I escape.
In hymns I'm healing these wounds on my own, though I get caught on tones I have thrown.
From time to time when I get low I try to conjure up your smiling face, which the years can't erase.
I know how corny this chorus sounds.
I'm laughing out [loud], so call me out I mean each and every word.
It's keeping me from crying out.
So crying out loud, are you so cold?
No, I know you know how it feels to be alone.
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4. |
Hold Me Down
03:05
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Hold me down, tranquilize the feelings I've got flowing out.
At daggers drawn I'm dreaming of a different dawn made miles and months ago.
Torn in two I travel chasing timelines to and from the truth.
I marvel mammoth monuments and piazza blues - appropriated and centuries removed.
The persistence of memory pierces both you and me.
Though you're not caught up in calamity from these moments we are never really free.
This state of woe, which wages war forevermore, won't break my bones, but the blood that it has poisoned in my marrow -
- it still breaks my heart.
You're empowered and privileged, neither naïve nor innocent, so stop acting like children.
Have some respect for your goddamned brethren.
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