1. |
Distance
03:54
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Oh failing sun; the verses stole the taste from our tongues
carved in stiff board motel beds
where we wrote our resolutions
in lonesome rooms across the land
I kept my distance from the fights
put my knuckles through the plaster
and said farewell by beacons where
the city glowed like dying fireflies
and when rest didn’t find me
I no longer sought it
spending nights with the moon
waiting on a rose to bloom
round and round it spins- round and round again
vicious words bounce off of the walls of that room
I’m kicking curses into the ground again
to give and live and yearn to lose what I gained
from the miles tucked into the rearview
And I know that you’re afraid of the haunts
those ideals lost, kicked, and mocked
by the abuses in American Nights
the same songs, the same fights
and I’m afraid these words don’t mean a thing
and I’m afraid this distance is everything
and I’m afraid I will claw my whole life just to hear your voice in the night
and I’m afraid this distance might be nothing.
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2. |
No Port in the Storm
03:55
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We’ve been out here for long enough
waiting on a ripple to sail us to the shore
or on the sun that wanes and rains to cleanse
for not being the ones we needed to be
hard glares in the bus terminal dream
tell me mumbling outsiders still see
how to pull questions from the well:
“why are we here and what makes you bleed?
Are we everything or nothing or somehow in between?”
(are we destined to walk through this life half-asleep?)
A lusting pack of wolves; we roam the land:
truckstop suffocating, heads in our hands
burning up the miles in desert heat (x2)
am I with you and you with me? (x2)
because it’s not enough to know what it is that we seek in the heart
restless, our souls will stray like sailors who’ve come to port
long lost on the sun and burned by the rays
standing eye to eye buried by the waves
sons, brothers, sisters, daughters
and the distance between
sons, brothers, sisters, daughters
in search of meaning
are we brave enough? Have we bled enough?
what distance is too far to the stars?
with our sail in sight of the trees
we ignore the shore when it calls
why are we here?
Our names erased by the tide.
there is no port in the storm.
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3. |
Avenues
01:34
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4. |
Plains
03:02
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I won’t forget when you said to me:
“I wasn’t ready for that end”
but now our way of life has disappeared
all we feared with the breeze blown in
makes it hard enough to say
I’m not ready for death yet
when the last ray catches my gaze
take my ashes to the western plains
and when you throw me to the trees
I’ll be singing time’s refrain
from sea to endless sea
There is certain liberation in the dark we spoke of
our blood cold and drained
flowing the roads that we walked on
and though the ship did sink
we learned to sing in the deep
with misery scrawled in notebooks
sprawling the landscape
It was more than you could know or see
it’s always been much more than I could believe
When the last ray catches our gaze
they’ll take our ashes to the plains
and when they throw us to the trees
we’ll be the songs they sing.
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5. |
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There’s more to this than misery
callused hands and pleading from our knees
counting stones ‘til our names are carved or carried off in the wind
I spent five years in perfect solitude without you
embracing the distance and time spent
measuring our fates from the bridge to the river
but if you believe in this, you lean on me
I’ll offer my shoulder and you can do the same
our hearts beat the same
with words burning bright
we’ll remind the blind of sight
have we lost that sense of forward thought?
As if there is cause to the violence
to the ruins and the wounds and the apathy
and not a good enough reason to walk across:
the cracks
the railings
from ledges
to the other side
we can’t allow idleness to eliminate true vision
with eyes open to all the violence
that binds and blinds in this ruined land
that I still don’t know how to comprehend
so I won’t pretend but I’ll keep my mind open
and my heart far from hatred while I reject the notion
that life should only serve to chain it and break me
as I lay down this ink aiming to cross the bridge again
with you alongside closing that distance
and making right the rest of our time here
one last drive, one last song
no more talk of suicide or how we didn’t belong
we may be tired and tried and we may be truly alone
but I will promise you this:
I’ll take the long road home
for true love and true freedom above all.
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