1. |
Hans Christian Andersen
03:13
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I've used my knowledge of the world
To make myself disappear.
Well I guess this is what I get
For dreaming of palm trees and marquees
And lights on the city strip.
We've got our arsenal of chemicals
So let's mix them, and tell our friends
And let the world know
That we are invisible.
Let's spend this rebuilding year at home.
Let's spend it with the thieves
That we grew up with, and grew up to become.
And we'll recount the ways
That people used to talk
When they could still see us.
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2. |
All Ric and No Flair
03:40
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You darted up in your sleep
And there are tendrils pulling at you
That beckon to see these sheets no more
You’re a girl on borrowed time
And I’m a man with nothing to lose
They’re coming through the blinds tonight
The tendrils always tugging at me
When I’m at home
And it’s only when they sleep
And I’ve been rearranged and sewn together
That I am whole.
It will take time. It will take practice.
It will take all these things you’ve got no use for.
I can’t save you from your sleep
I can’t save enough money to buy you a drink
In this godforsaken bar
Full of patrons full of cheap ideas
And cheap shots of bottom shelf liquor
And in the corner the jukebox is
Playing some shitty Replacements ripoff song I’ve never heard
And there in front of me, a shot that some old guy bought me.
It tastes like guilt.
It takes like what I deserve.
It tastes like home.
Considering the circumstance
I guess there’s nothing left to do except
Swallow it whole.
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3. |
Vehicles, Plural
04:03
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The pen is clicking
And the ink is drying on the page
And the rain against the window
Is an epic symphony
Performed one time only
For an audience of houseflies
Watching cars through
The divider fence makes traffic look like film
You found me moving furniture
And left me with a sewing kit
Now I'm all loose threads and patchwork.
Then, you were perched in the reading room
And there were winds at the ferry point
The moorings tied so tight
And yet they slip with such delicate ease
Tried to trade the scaffolding for
Room and board on a merchant ship
But paragraphs from distant shores
Drew land back to me
You wanted the ceremony
Without regard for all the seams
So you can't blame this life on me
You knew I'm married to the sea
Leaned on my bow, drank in the scent of salt
But when the crowd came rushing down
To wave us in, the port was out
Haven't had much luck with
Taverns on this side of town
Even smokers' lots can't
Seem to breathe the air when I'm around
But in the late hours of the night
Men who I should have been
Climb lonely vines to azure sky
Singing songs to passersby
And where am I?
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4. |
They Call Me The Cuban
04:15
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In the years before the buildings
We were underwater
Swimming always upstream
Flailing at being smarter
How could the rumblings of our hearts be so close
To the craven, crass projections of our throats?
Sometimes you've left
Chopin's 'Nocturne no. 2'
On the music stand
And I am just chewing it into pieces
And spitting it out one measure at a time
Sounding on all the right notes
Other times, we are spread so gallantly across the room
And your fears hit the floor
And my palms stretch skyward toward the ceiling
And we are young volcanoes
Not wiser than old mountains but burning brighter, hotter still.
The fireflies got loose
And to collect them now would be impossible.
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5. |
Scott Baiowulf
03:32
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Sell off all my worldly possessions!
From now on
You'll see me
Staying cool
With crude oil suntans
And cigarette burn tattoos
No matter if the world we know is ending
There will always be an audience.
And the audience will love this bit.
They’ll stand behind the barricades and watch
Watch me falling down stairs
Over and over.
The damage has all been done
But you can relax.
It was all with trick photography.
There was no hurt. There was no struggle.
It was just me and an attempt
To stay in a lucid dream
But now the audience was not impressed.
They didn't know what they were seeing
And they were scared. They believed it and they ran.
All just trick photography.
There will be plans drawn up.
There will be architects
Assigned to the project.
There will be monuments erected.
But there will not be joy.
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6. |
We Could Live Like Kings
03:22
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Engine sounds bleed into whistles
A holdover from cargo hold just hopping onto trains
Eight wheels times fifty cars times forever
A haunting smell of a burned out desert town for every mile
But in a town like this, you've got your thumb out for a lift.
You were always so goddamn predictable.
You could ride the rails so long
It’d take a crash to throw you off.
If only lives of crime had taught us
how to tread that line
Because I’m just amassing sins on ceremony now.
One last stop, in a monument to dirt.
I stumble in, bandaged and with whiskey stains on my shirt
and I look a mess and I'm pleading for a chance
but we were raised in ghost towns
so all you're looking for is smoke and dust.
I thought this’d be
The place that they would bury me.
And yet, like you’d expect
The bastards came and burned it down instead.
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7. |
A Birthday Party
05:33
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Your city is a vampire
It runs on blood and emotion
And I'd have torn it all apart with my bare jaws
Just to find my place in it.
But they had bigger plans for you
And you had
Bigger plans for the city
The city's heaped the slurry on our homes
Though it swore to keep us safe
And today is your birthday my dear
And there will be hell to pay.
And tonight, we will place candles
In the hopes that the disaffected souls
Who left would come back and’ve loved
What we did with the place
And have we ever emptied out all those ash trays?
And have we gotten to cementing our walls
With goals we achieved instead of
Dreams we smothered in our froth and ignorance?
Let the saddest have at it.
It's your birthday.
We destroy the ones and pile on the corpses.
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Lives of Crime Holyoke, Massachusetts
Lives of Crime is:
Dan Sullivan - Lead Vocals
Jamieson Goodwin - Guitars, Vocals
Bren D’Amours - Guitars, Vocals
Kevin Vance - Bass, Vocals
Ben Abert - Drums, Programming, Vocals
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