1. |
eyelids
02:53
|
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bend the middle finger back until it breaks
save the knuckle for a piece of jewelry.
you always loved a sentimental souvenir,
what a better place and time but here.
you ripped the skin off of my eyelids
you awoke me from a dream.
you dug the nails out of the nape of my neck
the sentiment translated nonetheless.
bend the middle finger back until it breaks
save the bone to stir your coffee.
you always loved a sentimental souvenir,
what a better place and time but here.
you ripped the skin off of my eyelids
you awoke me from a nightmare.
you dug the nails out of the nape of my neck
the sentiment translated nonetheless.
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2. |
ship jumping
02:30
|
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cut your hair short,
keep your nails long,
cut yourself short,
and feel god-awful.
find something worthwhile
and soon abandon it.
lose your sense of self again
you almost had it.
who was I yesterday
reading an empty page?
jumping from ship to ship
not really sure if it's
anything more than a passing feeling,
a face I can't place
but means something I can't quite put my finger on.
cut your hair short and keep your nails long.
cut your hair short,
keep your nails long,
cut yourself short,
and feel god-awful.
find something worthwhile
and soon abandon it.
lose your sense of self again
you never had it.
who was I yesterday
writing an empty page?
jumping from ship to ship
not really sure if it's
anything more than a passing feeling,
a face I can't place
but means something I can't quite put my finger on.
cut your hair short and keep your nails long.
|
||||
3. |
monster in the chapel
02:03
|
|||
when we were kids we found a stairwell
hidden behind piles of junk in the storage room at church.
we found room after room abandoned
frozen in time.
with sheet music still on the choir chairs, missing floorboards,
a pool table discarded mid-game.
that night I dreamt there was a monster in the chapel;
we ran upstairs trying to escape.
and now the whole thing feels distant like a dream.
the kind you try to keep yourself awake
to keep from falling back into.
everything is disassociated
like the space before you fall asleep
and forget who you are.
when I was thirteen I saw pike's peak.
took a picture at the top,
I hid the camera so that nobody could see.
I kept ever pencil, trinket, and hotel key
in a box next to my bed
and sat up every night consumed with the nostalgia.
the trip was mostly uneventful
but there was something about those memories..
and now the whole thing feels distant like a dream.
the kind you try to keep yourself awake
to keep from falling back into.
everything is disassociated
like the space before you fall asleep
and forget who you are.
|
||||
4. |
breathe
03:36
|
|||
breathe in so you can stay alive.
breathe in so you don't suffocate.
breathe in because you realize.
that it no longer resonates.
nothing ever stays the same.
I woke up from another dream
that changed the way I feel about everything.
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||||
5. |
||||
6. |
maybe next time
01:20
|
|||
Susan's down there by the creek talking about snakes again
and Tim is out there humoring her about as much as he can.
that night I went to sleep feeling like shit again
ain't it funny now that's how it always is.
and I've got this sentimental feeling I can't quite put my finger on.
the next night we went to Kenny's house,
now she's drunk again and we don't know how.
so she stays the night.
we all stay the night.
Virginia makes us breakfast in the morning, she cooks the bacon just right.
and I've got this empty feeling I can't quite put my finger on.
when I was fifteen years old someone told me where I'd die
now I go back there every year just to try and prove them right.
but it never happens,
oh well maybe next time.
|
||||
7. |
breathe
01:52
|
Nimra Peek Chicago, Illinois
For 2011's smash hit "Findlay's Friendly Appliances" please visit bicycle.bandcamp.com/album/findlays-friendly-appliances
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