1. |
Aquanota
02:52
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I came down these holes. I’m heaving up my insides. So can we say we’re wrong? Can we escape the song? Down, down we go again. Down, down we go again. Oh, so still. Like flies on a wall. Oh, so still. Oh my god, lost my vision; I hear but don’t care cause all that I know is a dream. Take one a day, demons away. Try, we try. Take one a day veils never stay. Have you ever heard of a cleansing? It happens every day. You get in and get out, demons away. We take one a day. Take one a day. We take and we take and we take. Take, take, take.
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2. |
Blame
03:31
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Aren’t you concerned? The older that we grow, the greater the distance becomes.We sway on the verge of the greatest divide. Odds are we don’t see the end. To everyone that I have failed, I’m sorry, but you’d better know that we’re all to blame. Aren’t you concerned? The older that we grow, the greater the distance becomes. With every passing day, the moment is all that we really have. To everyone that I have failed, I’m sorry. But you’d better know that we’re all to blame. Because failure only works both ways, it’s a party. You’d better know that we’re all to blame. With every passing day, The moment is all that we really have. You shouldn’t wait for me to find a way to show you the life you’ve always had. I’m not sorry.
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3. |
Stitches
03:31
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I woke up this morning to my clothes laid out in order. They were unerring and delicate. Sewn of the finest. We’ve got this bounce in our step that just can’t be taken or stopped. Resilience that is unmeasured, unparalleled. Sewn of the finest. Time’s like a stitch ensnared and unraveling in thickets that never let go. No one can choose of whom, or where they come from, they only can choose where to go. Oh, what a mess of patches we’ve become undressed. Stitch by stitch, we shed our skin; oblivious. Sewn of the finest. And there’s only so much that we can do cause all that we have is what we choose.
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4. |
Turn
03:16
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Dawn: Blushing, rosy dawn. Timeless is her captivating glow: Tangerine and amber. Fruits: Lavish, luscious fruits. Affluence is gently stifled still wrought for reapers. Turn and slumber. Float away. Dawn and I smile. Serene. Quiet and still Mother, butchered her, I did; pale and silver. Gales: Caterwauling gales. Weaving upon looms of destitution wrought for banshees. Turn and slumber. Float away. I will smile; sweet, sweet release. Can you taste the air blossoming? Illuminate the earth. Can you hear the air blossoming? Melodious; the earth. Orchestrate the symphony of vibrant compositions. Mellifluous birds.
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5. |
Morning
03:54
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First light creeps in; peekaboo with the sun. You’ve been dreaming about life as a kid. Thoughts come swiftly whether you like it, or not. Swing your feet ’round so they drop to the floor. Are you anything but what you believe? So you rose, rubbed your eyes, and sauntered down the hallway. Shuffling, your body along. You say, “hello”. to the morning. You smile because you’re alive.
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6. |
Back & Forth
03:27
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Contemplative boy, you’re always back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth; Never the same. Think. You think too much. Your minds been running, running, running, running,, running, running. It never stops. Stop! Wait! Did you lose yourself again? Where did you go? Nobody knows: Let the madness swallow your soul. Caught: You’re caught in the grip. The vises: Chaos. Control. Chaos. Control. Chaos. Control. You’re torn apart. Contemplative boy, ou’re always back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth. I’ve never been so back and forth.
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7. |
Iron Horse
04:37
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If you knew in your heart that this would end you, would you still start? If you knew when you heard the train calling, as you lept off the back of your steed, that the tied and the writhing become those hooves that’d be trampling you? Iron Horse. You’re on your back and you wonder, “How did I get here?” There will be no daring rescue. Ain’t no, “just in the nick of time.” It’s just you, and that figure you talk to whenever you are in need. So are you content? You took the adventure and came back empty handed.
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8. |
Sovereign
03:57
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Oh, don’t mind me my friend, I’ve settled in to stay. Your hands twisted and varicose, collecting in your veins. Beware the crow’s compulsory disease it’s cancerous in nature watch it fester underneath. Dear, I’ve never left you. I’ll always be true. I’ve been so lonely. I’ll be with you soon. Don’t you know that we can never taste this fruit upon our lips? Fore we are meant to do this dance with unrelenting, graceful foot steps. Dear wither, I’ve found love. We’ll just have to wait. Stop your advances. I’ll be with you soon.
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9. |
Architects
03:25
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Father was a friend he said, “Son, you will be safe if you know the devil’s hands are yours, just as they are mine.You are Jesus of your own disease. Its ironic, cause its true.” He took my hand and told me, “Son, this world is yours.” The architect, his wandering Opus is at variance; constituents without accord. Curious, I grow. So was I meant to know the words my father spoke? My hands became the demons. The vagabond methodically trudges through bitterness, through dissonance, and dour groves. We’re such wicked fiends: We are the monsters. Empathetic beings: We are the saviors. So maybe we are flawed. Fallen into disrepair, inherently we are the architect’s exquisite creation. A faulty mess of diagrams and partial notes. Father was a friend, he said, “Son you will be safe.” But I just can’t shake the devil’s hands. They’re yours and mine to keep. Jesus of our own disease, its ironic, cause its true. If we create this world… my God…
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10. |
All's Well That Ends
05:08
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Are we stars? My legs will be the first things to go out on this fleeting road. They have carried on since the day I could crawl. Thus from my hands and knees I was, but just a seedling, so small, and like all living things: I sprouted once, then grew tall. So, “Stand down” I’ll say. “All’s right, I’m thankful for your vigilance. Upon these words, rest. Your acknowledgement, acceptance of place. Ere long, you’ll know: All’s well that ends.” The limbs, on which the tools of my trade have labored all their days. By their dexterity, did my fruition take shape. From clumsy children: unacquainted with such poise, or such grace. To stately gentleman: seasoned, and bettered, with age. So, “Stand down” I’ll say. “All’s right, I’m thankful for your vigilance. Upon these words, rest. Your acknowledgement, acceptance of place. Ere long, you’ll know: All’s well that ends.” Minds glow with much radiance, their brilliance filling every hole. In the wake of their bloom the earth is left thawed and warm. Before my brain could even create, this pioneer made way for possibilities, endless in size and in shape. The solitary genius: rhythm came to be from his drum. My body’s symphony was orchestrated by one. So, “Stand down” I’ll say. “All’s right, I’m thankful for your vigilance.Upon these words, rest. Your acknowledgement, acceptance of place. Ere long, you’ll know: All’s well that ends.”
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