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1. |
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I've been climbing down
That long, long, long, long, long, long ladder to hell.
I'm waiting to see if you will come
Awake at 3 AM with a bottle of rum
And I don't wanna dance alone
Come on baby lets live like we're stashing gold
Baby come on and hold my hand
Aint got no money but all my love to give
Im hanging on by the edge of a thread
Take your scissors baby watch me fall right in
And I don't wanna dance alone
Come on baby lets live like we're stashing gold
It's the end of nothing
It's the end of nothing
It's the end of nothing
It's the end of nothing
It's the end of nothing
End of nothing
End of nothing
Ive been leaping down
This hole keeps getting deeper I can't climb out
Im riding down a one way road
Pedal to the metal I'm trying to see my ghost
And I don't wanna dance alone
Come on baby lets live like we're stashing gold
And I don't wanna dance alone
Come on baby lets live like we're stashing gold
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2. |
Sad Song #9
03:26
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I was talking to a real close friend
Conversation true and blue end to end
I was watching as my words stabbed his heart
Conversation, I never really liked that part
But I won't show if you can help me
And I won't show if you can help me
Like a chain we were smoking cigarettes
We were staring at the stars
No regrets
I was talking and my world it fell apart
Conversation, never really was my art
But I won't show if you can help me
And I won't show if you can help me
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3. |
Staring At Lemons
04:05
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Another lost soul stands at my window
I watched her fade as the city died
Someone asked if I had seen their rainbow
I just turned I could only sigh
It's not my fault you're stuck inside it
It's not my fault you know it all
Choking slowly on your bullshit theories
Mental gymnastics seem to suit you fine
I just watched as you withered slowly
Another symptom of your selfish life
It's not my fault you're stuck inside it
It's not my fault you know it all
Repetition in a cycle of your fury
A safer place inside your mind
No one to tell you, you might be human
No one to tell you, they're not on your side
It's not my fault you're stuck inside it
It's not my fault you know it all
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4. |
Empathetic Oblivion
05:13
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Somewhere down near Memphis I lost another friend
Misconception is a poor man's breakfast in the end
Too many men decide there's just no other way
Time is just another word for "I don't know what to say"
Doing business down in Texas
I just couldn't stay away
Distinguished men drink again just wasting another day
A landmine of selfish minds
This time I'd crossed the line
The contempt for misconception
It'll get you every time
It'll get you every time, yeah
Somewhere in Savannah Jail I'd spend the next few days
Left alone, atonement lost, I hadn't found the pay
Cast from my shadow, I had no place to stay
Lost in battle, with who?
I don't think I could even say
Symbolism don't mean shit
If you can't say what it means
Metaphoric child care for the undeveloped brain
Human interaction, interrupting static dreams
"Can you hear me?" "What?" he said, "I can't see my TV screen"
Petty poet with no cause
"Can he really set a scene?"
Forced portrait with a stolen cat
"Did you even get his name?"
Last night I cried in a dream
Does that count as feeling pain?
There's a girl coordinating colors and I hope she knows my name
and I hope she knows my name
and I hope she knows my name
and I hope she knows my name
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5. |
Go Home
04:59
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Something tells me
I know when the summers over
And you can't stand yourself
You'll start it all again
You can tell yourself its all alright
Keep it off your mind
And out of sight
But I know
You'll always be the same
And I wish you would just move on
And I wish you would just go home
It's a trick game
Yeah some men pray
When they're playing roulette
In the pouring rain
But they know
They probably can't go home
Her husband left
She's had enough
Their children yearn for a stable heart
But they know
They can't exchange that part
And I wish they would just move on
And I wish they would just go home
Something tells me
I know when the summers over
And you can't stand yourself
You'll start it all again
You can tell yourself its all alright
To avoid discomfort and feel misplaced
But I know
You'll always be the same
And I wish you would just move on
And I wish you would just go home
And I wish they would just move on
And I wish they would just go home
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6. |
Leave Me on the Floor
03:12
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Well she was sitting on the floor
Tile blue and her hair so short
Big black circles underneath her eyes
Like looking in a mirror with a disguise
I said, "Baby what's the matter with you?"
She said, "They said I don't know about you"
Digging deeper down the well of despair
Depressing thoughts stuffed in a chair
And I said, "Baby lets leave it on the floor"
Well she was sitting on the ceiling
Walls white and her life unreeling
Big black bags underneath my eyes
Like standing in the weather on a winters night
Cold looks froze me in my tracks
Back track to anxiety attack
And I said, "Baby come join me on the floor"
Drug induced stare
Leave me alone
The walls are telling me that I want more
Listening to inanimate objects
My life is turning into a concept
Living like a parasite
Leeching of you just like a knife
And I said, "Baby come join me on the floor"
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7. |
Right Here
03:20
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I met you there
By the riverside
The city glowing
Inside your eyes
We looked around
And settled down
In a place right here
We walked around
This grimy town
You held my arm so tight
I couldn't make a sound
The subway screamed
I never dreamed I could feel like this
A small cafe
17th and Park
Table near the window
We sat till dark
Your voice so sweet
Snow in the street on a New York night
Down by the beach
Where we grew up
You showed me where to look
To find the beauty in the rust
Impatient heart
Divided into parts
And sealed up by you
Ill meet you there
17th and Park
Table near the window
We'll sit till dark
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8. |
Frankie's Sunday Dinner
05:24
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My dear friend Frankie called me on Saturday afternoon
He offered a dinner party for Saturday morning
The sort of thing you'd find in the sub plot of a South Brooklyn mob movie
I nervously agreed to his generous invitation
I arrived at the small garden cafe not 5 minutes after 6AM
When Franklin himself shouted down from the third floor apartment
He seemed to move without touching the ground
He floated and opened the large European style door
And curiously I entered the cavernous space
It was the sort of restaurant you'd see in an outdated comic book
Flat, unintentional
Distain for the guest who arrives late
Frankie rings the bell at 7 sharp
Professor Underwire has entered the room
Holding a rather large Franz Kline painting
"Dinner is served"
I hear Frankie leap 7 inches off his chair
At the very presence of the objects before us
A torn leather vest
12 small rubber keys
A photocopy of a mirror
And one small bowl of gravy
The nerve of Franklin
To present such distinguished guests
With such meaningless mylar sculptures
By 9 AM the dinner was nearing a close
I gathered my roll of caution tape
And wished Frankie the best in finding his lost cat
Oh dear Frankie
The dinner was divine
I hear the train rumble beneath us
As Miss Hemingway inquires about my strange leather shoes
"Miss, I arrived to this dinner barefoot, as any distinguished guest would
at a party such as this"
We sat down wishing the night hadn't started so late
Frankie turned to me and said
"Hey how about dinner this Sunday 6AM in the garden"
"It's been a long time since I hosted a dinner"
I looked long and hard at Frankie and asked
"What time is it again?"
"Almost 3AM" the doctor replied
Nervously from a dark corner
I heard the doctor ask if I had known where his mother was?
I did not
This isn't the sort of thing I expected when I came to this dinner party
"Miss Hemingway, Stop asking about my shoes"
As I surveyed the table
I started to notice that these were not people
Yet insects
Insects of a certain kind
One that I had seen before
Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind
This was not the time for chatter
This was the time for petulance
As I knew
This was the end
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9. |
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Psychiatric Metaphors New Jersey
Psychiatric Metaphors
The Music of Sam Taylor
Acid on Toast Records
King Pizza Records
Little Dickman Records
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