1. |
The Missing Piece
04:38
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There is an answer for everything,
and it lies
at a discrete address.
It resides at the end of the page.
There is a world inside your head.
You draw a map
around the landmarks
and it traces,
it leads:
the missing piece.
I hope you find
the protagonist,
lost in fields of simple crosses.
The orbital's glance is so loving,
it's not horror,
it drops its payload,
the tears.
But Oh, God
To bear (know) the volume,
that's why they made your loving
the pump.
and there are beautiful fields
to line up the souls,
but we miss the point.
At the end of every rambling string of words,
some feet beyond the page,
breathes the essence
and the state.
You'd need a videotape
(to recreate the negative space).
Let's hope my love blooms tonight,
the city is awake,
their tungsten filaments dilate,
and float in the evacuated space.
Their signals leak out.
Those packets radiate.
Let's hope the counter clicks again,
the sweetest beta decay.
The cerulean bath dilates.
The infant stares outside its cage...
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2. |
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You’re dangerous: you’re confident.
You turn that white-noise maker up to ten,
and you hear the sounds they make
and you hear the sounds they don’t.
A cannon bolts,
passes fireworks again
And when they explode,
I think of you.
And it’s so stupid, you know.
When I’m alone
I like to sculpt your form
in pulses of air
from vibrations of strings,
dancing
flashes of light.
The bass that keeps my tempo
is a city that’s lost
In Kurt (Vonnegut)‘s “doodley squat”.
And no foam alone
can keep from waking up again
no time alone
can keep my house a quiet pen
no one knows
the sound of innocents drowned-out
in a sea of sculptures,
an azure tide pulls the pained naïve inside.
You’re dangerous: you’re confident
and you’ll swear you’re not a part of it,
the pulses of air
that rock the floor,
an approaching storm
of vehicles bent
to mentally rend
in all the neighborhoods
that we reside in.
You’re dangerous
to the populace
and you keep on,
keep on
getting it wrong.
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3. |
Sheer Terror
03:03
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You cut the largest swath, here.
You made the trembling appear.
Your breathing, low.
Your comments, old.
You brought the drugs.
You profit on the wild.
You profit on the blight.
My city is dangerous, and
my city is terror, sometimes.
You grew out of the sidewalk,
so keep your knuckles bearing chalk.
We paint you on the side of things.
We make statues and all that waste.
The money, it decays: on every counter there’s a plate
that finds a pipe, below in caves,
it picks a river, then it fades…
The artists pick a corner
and ten developers stake their claim.
They bring dozens of New Yorkers
with their condescending approval rates.
The corpses planted in the suburbs
just brew their ales and procreate.
They could be blind at the gentrified,
if they’d even cross the graves.
You know, sometimes I’m out much too late -
You placed that scarlet letter.
You placed that scar upon your poor.
You pour the blood in gallons,
and re-create the Civil War.
...and here it comes, that sinking feeling,
the steps lead down to The Blue Line.
Your products line the alleys,
and the veins of every mark that sleeps,
but when I wake up,
it’s the same dream:
My city is dangerous.
Dangerous.
Sheer terror.
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4. |
Tiny Particles of Gold
05:50
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Too ripe for the tree, the time spent to me.
I hold that granule because of its discrete interval.
The seconds we caught. The hours we stole.
The granules we lock become precious
as time makes them motes.
It’s larger than you know,
the quilt, it unfolds.
The people look old.
The specs are golden motes that you know,
you study, to grow.
So store the ones
for the absence that’s growing,
if there’s one safe place, I’ll tell you when I know.
So store the ones for the absence that’s growing
if there’s one safe place, I’ll tell you if I’m old.
A lady. It seems, in Jeopardy.
In a mind that needs release from the tree.
To watch it grow, to watch it breathe, to watch it explain, observing the need.
You hold the granules of time, and they form the lens of your mind
And they color your view most every time,
they color the memories of the blind.
If there’s one safe place, I’ll tell you, if we align.
If there’s one safe place, I’ll tell you,
if we meet again.
So you forge them, to be one
with the thing that the universe knows.
It watches
existence,
but we are it.
And those granules are it.
And the universe is generous, because they glow.
We own the time.
Only memory makes us think that it’s a fine
smoke that will never subside
and drift off to places
so high and away.
The people say.
The people say,
when the quilt unfolds it’s larger than you know.
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5. |
A Great Divide
03:08
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And all the words
in the back of your mind,
they design,
they construct the space of mine.
And all at once (all my ones)
railcars collide,
the beads they leave their string,
a fine
broke tapestry.
They cause a great divide.
Divide
the time from the present
and light
the flame
to produce the channel
that's in between.
You visitor from the future,
I thought you were an alien,
you look so much different from me,
my heart, it resides on its sleeve,
my eyes are as wide as the sea.
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6. |
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And I wrote you
a rock song,
it was too loud
to be long.
They gave you their heart,
removed it,
was dead.
I'm gonna give you my ear instead.
And you feel
so delicate,
though I've seen leather
crumble and break,
so you stay
for the hell of it,
to open up
for at least one day.
And I know why you're making me do this.
I know why we're at it again.
Though it's the worst time,
you're thinking we need this.
It's the worst time.
We're at it again.
You plan it,
soft little thing.
You hang my heart on a string.
You plan it,
soft little thing,
you are my heart,
(you) broken beads.
and I'll never take you anywhere alone,
you rot in this lot, unhappy home.
You make me trust the unknown.
I'll never take you anywhere alone.
You planet...
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7. |
As Sweet As Sin
03:47
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Sweet and Low,
Swallowed down.
Dissolve a powder.
Swallowed down.
Make the food
as sweet as sin.
Coat it in.
Encapsulate.
A grinding paste.
Make it decay
if it can't stay.
There's nothing to say, (but)
Satiate.
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8. |
Take This
04:16
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The sunlight
over Delancey Place,
the longing I feel
is sometimes enough to compensate.
The blossoms.
This spring.
They say
that “life”, it still happens,
that there's a world in waiting.
In the back of Pine Street
I decide to be hopeful that we'll be freed
and the landscape open up
to a thousand persons in the street.
They will make you coffee and
you can safely sit and eat
and we can un-sieze these gears,
undo the rift in society,
But hidden inside of this house,
I feel I've got nothing to give,
Though it's dangerous to go alone,
take this.
The sunlight it continues to move
and the birds, they just constantly make their noise,
I admit that it feels so different this spring,
You want it to be different, but that's not how it is.
The mind of the bachelor, it rolls,
and it rattles around just along this floor,
though I choose to remain hopeful,
open the windows again
and walk past the stores
and making desires,
it's a time to be planning,
it's likely and given,
we haven't been living.
Take this time to go out.
Take this time to re-collect.
Take this time to breathe.
You've got time on your hands,
and that's what it needs.
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9. |
DLTPAC
01:46
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You want to me to meet you at the floor.
You call on me to grant you something more, and
you’re what may come, when
no one makes up.
Your one day comes,
if any wants some more.
Know we’re conned on
married love and
make up, that smeared pre-nup,
its calming knot...
calming,
calming,
calming,
when no one wakes up
calm.
Calming,
when no ones wants it.
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10. |
Plumes
04:29
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You walk alone.
You say you'll reconnect with everyone you want,
and the sun, the angle on the pall, it vaults across the fault.
(Around me, the sun appears,
Passing the solitude.
Rounding the corners
That time sharpens slowly, and
Bounding the borders, and
Bounding ahead,
The Life, it has grown in complexity, ‘til this room).
It found me, an edge, loose.
Off on a branch.
They burn on the end to stop the bleed going.
Off on a tangent, the time it devolves.
There's no hive beyond you, and no vine to grow.
For 3.5 million years, they've endured.
Those 3.5 million souls are just poured
out, and
You've made promises, I'm sure.
You've made them to everyone, but what were they for?
Out in the night air and off on your own.
Is there no way to silence the beat of the drum?
You talk like there's no place, when they're walking ahead.
When they lift that needle, and you grab a seat, they'll say you were wrong.
But there's so much more around you now.
They'll say you were wrong,
...that it was a gamble, that old city,
It was a vision, that crazy pilot,
It was a thrill that decaying smokestack,
and it was a dream, the unicorn. Alright.
and it was a gas, that toxic smokestack.
You hallucinate to the plume of the expanding unicorn.
You'd wait in cafes, bleeding on that city,
scanning the skies to see what the heavens drop,
a soul to own.
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The Azure Sea Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
The Azure Sea is an alternative post punk rock band from Philadelphia Pennsylvania.
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