1. |
Naïveté
01:22
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2. |
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A world with no friction can hold no addiction After this point I can make the distinction And I ask myself what have I left to lose? There’s a lump in my throat and it’s too hard to swallow After this point I know not what will follow And I ask myself what have I left to lose?
But the alchemist, believes That even I, am golden too And the trips and flus are helping me To pull on through
The points have been scheduled and the meetings met monthly
I’ve all on my side but his strength won’t confront me And he questions me, is this pillow helping you? My hair stands on end with each breath that I intake I’ve all on my side effects they won’t be mistakes And he questions me, is this pillow helping you?
But the alchemist, believes That even I, am golden too And the trips and flus are helping me To pull on through
A feeling once fought has now made it full circle The caps been unscrewed and the ants start their work And I ask myself, what have I left to lose? The bugs they have marched but the wiring needs changing
Insects alone can’t do all the rearranging And I ask myself, is this the depths last brew?
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3. |
Optimism
05:38
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My grief in movement
Belief in improvement
The oracle (at Delphi) and I
Have never seen, eye-to-eye
The fear is here and I try
I can’t yet see the patterns
Darkness lacking lanterns
My thesis doubled down
Modal stress covered frown
Dispositions don’t confound
Optimism, best be cautious
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4. |
Home
05:23
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It’s cold on this train,
and I’ve got miles, to go
Extremes call my name,
whisper to me,
we’re one and the same
But I know, I’m not home
Yes I know, I’m not home
In David is,
the best, a room could give
The tar’s on my heel,
a sitting string,
the way I feel
But I know, I’m not home
Yes I know, I’m not home
But I know, I’m not home
Yes I know, I’m not home
Yes I know, I’m not home
Yes I know, I’m not home
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5. |
Mental Health
03:47
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Table’s square, but I draw circles round it
Walls are warm, we feel
Faces mine, but I can’t control the hands
Numbers up then down
But my brain knows, the fan can only ask me
Air that’s blown, will heal
And pills alone, can’t change what’s coming out of
The headphones, inside
The shelves are full, of books and band-aids
Tearing off, left bear
Physical, never talked about till now,
Once it’s out, it helps
But my brain knows, the fan can only ask me
Air that’s blown, will heal
And pills alone, can’t change what’s coming out of
The headphones, inside
Counting the centers of Hell,
Tests and Pavlovian bells
Skinner skinned his cat to see how it’d react
For me it’s wondering where I’m at
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6. |
New York
03:27
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The darkness of the tunnels contrast brightness of the signs
Time is square and buildings they poke holes into the sky
Speed is of the essence or least we’re led to believe
An effective of our diffusion of responsibility
These observations on a brown paper bag make one forget,
The pain secured on like a sails tag
And they say money fixes problems
And these sights make me believe that it is true.
I close my eyes but find no sleep the cities name prevents
While the yellow flashes by the population does condense
Nick and all the other seem to have fell between the cracks
A glaring illustration of what society does lack
These observations on a brown paper bag make one forget,
The pain secured on like a sails tag
Is this progress or regression? The reply’s still in the air
While the cameras they flash brightly so we all can remember
And they say money fixes problems
And these sights make me believe that it is true.
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7. |
Thought Stopping
04:45
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Humans weren’t built to travel near this fast
Without a doubt I’m headed for a crash
Terminal terminals they paint on my air mask
Take offs and landing run away as the task
Screech of tires as I touch down
Baggage checked as I check the sound
Snap of fingers like a light turned on
Drone continues but the flight attendant’s gone
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8. |
Gravel Path
04:21
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Gravel path, gravel path
Will be last, of you
Current fast, current fast
Boat swept past, canoe
Once a gift now thrown away
Just pain left if it stays
And now I know I’ve got to let it go
Gravel path
Clear kept chilled, clear kept chilled
Void unfilled, just blue
Sliver willed, sliver willed
Smooth and milled, both true
Once a gift now thrown away
Just pain left if it stays
And now I know I’ve got to let it go
Gravel path
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9. |
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A portrait of the artist as a young man,
When will it be drawn?
Dedalus is just an alter ego,
A hero lost in frustration.
I’m walking up the hillside only six weak bottles strong
And my pants are torn; they’ve been cut by barbed wired.
And I’m done with mathematics and reflexive equations,
The move is on, the move is on its, gone
I’ve jammed fingers and I’ve jumped for joy,
But the conventions still remain
Jacob can’t be holding, all the answers
Is Paris calling out my name?
I’m walking up the hillside only six weak bottles strong
And my pants are torn; they’ve been cut by barbed wired.
And I’m done with mathematics and reflexive equations,
The move is on, the move is on its, gone
And I’m done with mathematics and reflexive equations,
The move is on, the move is on its, gone
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Wintertime Carousel Eugene, Oregon
Hailing from Eugene, Oregon, Wintertime Carousel's sound is defined best as indie folk rock hipster bullshit. Combining reverb soaked guitars, rich brass, and thoughtful lyrics, Wintertime Carousel creates a collage of sounds brining to mind artists ranging from Miles Davis to Bon Iver. ... more
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