1. |
Pagosa Springs
05:05
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When the priest died
In Pagosa Springs
They were alright
Had a resurrection party
And cop tried
To revive the body
But, oh, he lost his job because
It was dead already
And died in the sweet summer moonlight
When the priest lied
He told everybody
He’d survive
No plan B or will or nothing
And Pam tried
Dave tried
And Bobby
But, oh, they lost it all
Because that’s just a dead body
It died in the sweet summer moonlight
In the eyes it is alright
When the priest died
In Pagosa Springs
They were alright
Had a resurrection party
And cop tried
To revive the body
But, oh, he lost his job because
It was dead already
It died in the sweet summer moonlight
In the eyes it is alright
In the sweet summer moonlight
In the eyes it is alright
And he died in the eyes of an old light
In the eyes it is alright
In the sweet summer moonlight
In the eyes it is alright
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2. |
Bus
03:39
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It’s my fate to be hit by a bus
In the dark with my headphones on
Trudging through slush, Brisk on my tongue
Thinking to myself maybe “what the fuck”
...But it tastes so good so why the cussing?
Four homes for every homeless one
As a hundred empty boxes scrape the sun
Most of us can’t afford a crown (don’t need gold, just porcelain)
Meanwhile we’re all stuck working pointless jobs
....But they pay 15 so why the fussing?
Israel is drenched in Palestine’s blood
Boogeymen trade Torah for Quran
But now I’m stuck paying for Saudi bombs (don’t need gold, just porcelain)
Most of the time I can’t keep up….
Oh let go, be cool (it’s alright)
Talk to someone new (there’s something you can find)
Let the party be (it’s their night)
We’re all safe you’ll see
But even with beer there’s grief
He’s at Lockheed
It’s all in your mind (that’s the fool)
Breathe it out, you’re fine (to someone else, you’re new)
Stop and feed the geese (a different truth)
Where the men with nothing sleep
I’ll be right and free on a good beach
Just as long as they don’t ask for money
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3. |
See It Every Day
04:16
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You want to record
And you want to ignore
What’s outside your door
Asleep in the street
You just want to work
Not become a Young Turk
Just go out and get turnt
Sleep in Egyptian sheets
You don’t want your job
To be part of the problem
Make it separate from you
Yeah, you’re still feelin’ good
So stay home and record
And just try to ignore it
You try to ignore it
But you see it every day
You want to escape
From the prisons we make
To your private prop lake
You deserve it, don’t you?
You put in your time
You put up a good fight
’Til you made 29
Now you’re practically 30
Now you’re practically dead
Still the problem’s too big
So you might as well quit
I mean, it’s your life you live
But the state of it worsens
And the world keeps on burning
And you try to ignore it
But you see it every day
Do you see it in your dreams?
It’s even woven into sheets
Yeah, does it help to look away?
Or do the Turks get better sleep?
Do you see it in your dreams?
It’s even worked into the sheets
Yeah does it help to look away?
Now the streets full of trash
And a person is asking
For enough to get home
But they’re all on their phones
And they’re all getting paid
Just to dig their own grave
And there’s nothing to say
But you just see it every day
Yeah, but there’s another grave
Being dug behind the scenes
History made the shovel, dig
30 or not, you can begin
What’s giving rise to all that pain
Does contradict itself so sweet
The new world that lays in wait
Ready or not, it’s got to be
Yeah, but there’s another grave
Being dug behind the scenes
History made the shovel, dig
30 or not, it’s got to be
Yeah but there’s another grave
Being dug behind the scenes
History made the shovel,
...now dig
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4. |
Dialectics
03:58
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5. |
Still Time
04:37
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You and I, walking under street lamps
Across a bridge, no plan’s a nice plan
I left my phone back on the nightstand
And you’re getting kind of antsy
But no, it’s alright!
Then we walked until our feet swelled
And then sirens of the street fell
Into silence, and the sweet smell
Of honeysuckle and a fire pit
Filled up the night
There was a time when this was pure good
Before we cared, before we understood
About the blindfold of our childhood
Now we can’t escape the world
So now police have put up spotlights
To keep us safe from what’s inside of us
From all the ugly of the nighttime
It’s up to us to look within
And then put up a fight
Before the being of my soul tears
And I’ve got nothing good left to share
Death is a mask that I just won’t wear
Yeah, we’re nowhere close to being there
There, there
Yeah just don’t worry
When you give all your light
It returns, it’s alright
Let it go, make it bright
Nothing can ever fully stomp that spark out
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6. |
Internalizing
01:20
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7. |
Stone
04:32
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There is a stone
Fair, idle, and old
Poring through old volumes now to find it
Oh, no words are even coming close
But Jess, she has a smile that could save us
Living in me, just a shred of hope
That’s a stone
There is a stone
Fair, idle, and old
The smile may change but always makes a reason
Pity, that’s a brittle kind of stone
Could it be the visceral precedes it?
Careful Jess, your laugh may change us all
That’s a stone
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8. |
Transgressions
03:41
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The transgressions built into suburbia cannot hold you forever
You are bound
By forces outside yourself or your own internal entropy to leave
In search of life inside the cities and even find it in a job or maybe not
And think your awful boss an evil god or 180 and become a cop and shock the mob
And in the darkest days you're quick to think there is no good inside the city until it is found
The city is inside yourself and through its dark maze you are bound
You are bound
By friends and family, jobs, and relationships
You are bound to stay
In a life that seems worth living
You cannot give it up
Or maybe not?
What would it take for you to drop everything
And devote yourself to the necessary fight
It’s not just your loved ones holding you back
You must admit, you fear on your own
And for the city inside yourself
Through its dark maze you are bound
You are bound
Some sons and daughters of bankers in America are dreaming of worlds without ‘em
Heads in clouds
With no plan to make themselves, it's their own eternal day to dream with ease
As the workers toil to build the cities
At least I put them in a song
Oh god, we’re fucked
We need a lot more than a song, if not you can bet we’re out of luck
You look at all the fighters of the past
How did they escape their selfish fetters
Didn’t Rosa dread to read?
Would Marx have idled on his phone?
Oh god, we’re fucked
We’ll need a lot more than a song if not
You can bet we’re out of luck
The dialectics drawn out of your urbias cannot confuse you forever
You are bound
To someday confront yourself and give up on always inventing these critiques
As deflections from a realer meaning
The kinds you knew but soon forgot from suburban plots
Yeah, but then you were young and now you're not and the world is full of cops
All is rotten
Or maybe that's just how it's always been
There is no good inside the city and nor in our towns
But it is inside yourself and through its dark maze you are bound
You are bound
By friends and family, jobs, and relationships
You are bound to stay
Until you see your fucked up fantasy
Of losing everyone you think you need
Don’t be so shocked when it does come true
The world is full of cops
All is rotten
Maybe that’s just how it always went
Nobody wants to be a martyr
Until they lose their chains
But for now it’s inside yourself
And through its dark maze you are bound
You are bound
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