1. |
Love, Love, Love
02:20
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The words slip through me like they always do. I sang every song I knew. And I didn’t see god like I never do, no he didn’t have a clue, no he didn’t have a fucking clue.
I wish I was jesus trying to fight back. I wish I was jesus, skinny little jesus trying to fight back
Love, love, love (love, love, love) is what I had in New Hampshire, but it’s fucking New Hampshire.
So don’t bother with the nails, don’t bother with a cross...I am plenty dead enough
So don’t bother with the drugs, don’t tell me about collapsed lungs...I am plenty dead enough
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2. |
Beauty in your Brevity
04:32
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You hear every word I say like it's trite as car exhaust,
And here I'm wondering if your words came from Kafka
or Robert Frost.
You are something poignant,
like a poet in your concision.
You are goddamn brilliant.
There's a beauty in your brevity.
You must have spliced the audio.
Even Foer can't string two perfect lines in a row.
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3. |
Go Back to L.A.
03:20
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Lily, you know I wouldn't bet my life on it
Cause you know I like it a little better the hard way
Cause it's easier to write about love
When you dont have love
And it's easier to lie, when you have to lie
And it's easier to stop when you've been going so long that you have to stop
So why dont you go back to L.A.?
And start fucking everything
Or why don't you just get out of my way?
So I can fuck everything
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4. |
Dogs on Tethers
03:10
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We wrench and struggle together.
But baby, we're dogs on tethers.
And whether we could ever
chew it through,
at least it gives us something to do.
With blisters on my hand
white as a new fridge
bulging like bagpipes under my skin,
I grab ahold and pull.
And it's just pure futility.
But it's because we're bored that we
wrench and struggle together.
But baby, we're dogs on tethers.
And whether we could ever
chew it through,
at least it gives us something to do.
You say, "Come back to New Hampshire."
But darling, we're bugs in amber.
And Lily, that city will get bored of you, too.
But at least you'll give it something to use
and chew.
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5. |
On Opposite Day
02:37
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I saw this coming all along
You told me everything was not just wrong
But bountiful on opposite day
I saw the lines begin to shake
And the smiles started coming out without being fake
'Cause everything is finally coming our way
Lily, I know you're swimming
I know you're laughing it up while I'm here
Lily, I know you're swimming
I know you don't give a fuck that I'm here
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6. |
Hurdles
04:16
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There are hurdles both visible and invisible
that materialize always unannounced.
But while I've got friendships that are divisible,
most are indivisible,
and it's conceivable that simply that will sort it out.
I've told stories both original and unoriginal
that I fictionalize and sensationalize
until they're all worn out.
But I'll promise to keep it more honest
from here on out.
And as a reformed man,
I offer you something
I hope is tangible
and understandable:
it's that you always can be sure that
there are hurdles both visible and invisible
that materialize always unannounced.
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7. |
Timetables
05:12
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Cynthia Marie does timetables
with an old digital stopwatch keeping her faithful.
And let's be honest, I'm unstable
on the couch
with my mechanical doubts,
while Cynthia, little Cynthia, just lets it all flow out.
And I play sloppy piano
while she finds algorithms in my poetry.
"You can let go, it's me," she said.
"Tell me what's wrong, daddy," she said.
Cynthia is barely able to breathe,
gripping five and five fishhooks
into bleached hospital sheets.
And let's be honest, timetables are in doubt
as her mechanical heartbeat metronome machine
just lets it all play out.
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8. |
Little Cocaine Girl
04:13
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Hey, little naive, little girl
Did you find your shoulder to cry on?
Hey, little cocaine, little girl
Did you find your drug to get high on?
Cause I know you were invincible
And you never lost your words
I know you couldn't ever lose it
But I know that you'll lose it
Lily how did you come to be
Such a white-nosed fucking apology?
Didn't you ever get scared?
Don't you ever get scared?
Hey, little half-empty, little boy
Did you lose your crutch or your anchor?
Cause I know you hate New Hampshire
But it's not just New Hampshire
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9. |
How quickly
04:46
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How quickly we admit the follies of youth;
not so, those of age.
'Cuz I've been bleeding like an elitist,
which is to say that I've been bleeding what I mean,
but only doing it with a myriad of esoteric words between.
How quickly I forget that I've been there, too,
aching for a stage.
'Cuz maybe it's easy to charge a little fee
when I can say that I'm a veteran of the scene.
But I'm only treating it
like the product of a twenty fucking year routine.
How quickly we admit the follies of youth;
not so, those of age.
'Cuz lately I morphed into a metaphorist,
which is to say that I've been killing what I see,
but I'm trying to pass it off
as the purest form of expressionist poetry.
How quickly.
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10. |
Revisionist Nostalgia
03:42
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You pick me up in the old van
packing 40s and an old Rancid record.
Pure fucking nostalgia.
Ain't it nice
to just bathe in it sometimes?
And we spend days indoors
finding beauty in the simples power chords,
and writing our anthems
about never surrendering,
no matter the pressure and whatever the cost.
Pure fucking naivety.
Wasn't it nice
to just bathe in it sometimes?
And sometimes when I look back,
I realize it wasn't just me that broke that.
Pure fucking nostalgia.
Pure fucking nostalgia.
Depressing nostalgia.
Perversive nostalgia.
Revisionist nostalgia.
I wish I
could quit bathing in it
all the god damn time.
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11. |
Doves and Drugs
04:38
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The white dove isn't here,
it's not coming 'till next year.
It's not coming 'till next year,
when I finally get my face out of the sand.
When I finally get your hand in my hand.
I used to be afraid of changing.
You never were afraid of changing.
But now that I'm not afraid of changing,
I'm off the stage I started on.
You started a war.
And you left it, saying, "It's not my fault.
It's not my fault."
But it's obviously all your fault.
Even though you never meant it,
I know you meant it.
And we lose our heads drinking whiskey
in New Hampshire,
while you lose your heads drinking whiskey
in L.A.
And we sniff cocaine off of tables
in New Hampshire,
while you sniff cocaine off of tables
in L.A.
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12. |
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Near virtuosos in working outside of the canvas,
even if self-proclaimed,
we leave our father's houses with paint
spattered on the floor.
Near virtuosos in writing the carefully crafted
combat metaphor,
we leave our college houses with dreams
of fighting the next war.
But we suppress,
we suppress
to exist.
We drove from Cleveland to Buffalo,
New York to Chicago,
kept time with cigarettes.
We prayed to Peregrine and the wind
to guide us to the next.
Back when it felt like the real thing
just stargazing through cracks in basement ceilings.
Back when it felt like the real thing
just to drive alone with the stereo on.
But we suppress,
until we're buried in this.
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13. |
With a little drugs...
01:56
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Everything's changing again.
I can feel it all over the top of my skin.
And I don't know if someone has the key
to hold it.
But underneath these bones,
underneath this skull,
I think I can hold it,
with a little drugs,
and a little taste of L.A.,
with a little drugs,
and a little taste of Champagne.
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14. |
Ohio
03:12
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When I was in Cleveland for grad school
I saw you mopping floors under flourescent lights
At the Valero station on Euclid
You asked what I did these days and I paused
And I saw you and said I read 100 pages a day
And piss my money away in an expensive apartment
Behind the Valero station on Euclid
And we shoot the shit
You say your mom got sick
And I said my dad got sick in his own way
And you said man, it sounds like you got a beautiful life
And I said it back to you
I said man the two of us got beautiful lives
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