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1. |
calm feat. Godhand
02:01
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It will stop
Heavily, dreams rise from deepest places
darkly cast anchor overboard
waiting out the coming storm
Heavenly reams of clouds are billowing above
Blistery gusts, threatening to blast
the outcast pacifist
roosting way out deep
high hopes for getting
stuck in place
despite the ever shifting waves
irreverent of the curling blades
you've been out on a cold one
drifting towards the center of a
lonesome blue
adamant, set sail
ever darker depths in the wasting place
you hold your expectations down to drown your broken body
you stumble to distract one folly
with a host of sinister alternatives
justify your hate with pain
such a shame
what a pitiable and inconsequential naming of things
despicable waste of time and slow reeling downwards
flay me with the cheap shootings
you massacre anyone close enough to reach you
through the cloud you've draped across your waters
going under it for days
you chose that sad heading pointed inwards
you twisted the reigns to defend your blame
for one pride you take
naming yourself the ones best lost
you smugly hang that mantel, smirking
smiling idiot doting pity,
you revel in your beastly haste
rolling thunder pleased pitiful
the wailing squall tears over every outsize problem you conjure
even amiable sailors out from distant harbors
turn away from your gloomy island
once sought for shelter and trade
stormy, and steeped in misery,
a merchant's tossed amongst the waves
I remember how it rains
it will stop
though it comes and goes in spades
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2. |
tempest
03:17
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little calm before the rain arrives
standing hypnotized
soaking through your coat
I refrain from the epitome
we aren't the used to be
that weathered the storm
lonely eyes that call you home
and you never know where you'd rather go
balance out to what you owe
pray they never know where you'd love to go
when you're burning out your eyes
just to better memorize
when the sun sets on the ocean
two times over
if Mauna Kea had its way
we'd all be washed into the bay
with a bitter mellow shrug of
her broad shoulders
I'm so busy writing songs
I forgot i don't belong
just a creature with a date
dead on arrival
spread kukui around their stems
where the squatters built their dens
pressed against the waves
their thoughts are final
somewhere inside me, I knew
I don't belong here near you
held on as long as I could
your tempest will tempt me for good.
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Able. Eugene, Oregon
rust belt spirit pop found sound collage
CLE, OH
to
EUG, OR
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