1. |
Two-twelve
02:30
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Like hemophiliac runs, these wounds fresh cut, hieroglyphs on my teeth and gums, watch the infant as he learns to read.
Like hemophiliacs bleed, I begin move south from a diminishing state of grace, soft wings make plans for greater things
With hands to see, just as the child plays, my friend asked me to define “desolation” yesterday, I said I'll explain.
We couldn't survive, no we couldn't survive, no. What ya gonna do when I finally call down that flood?
We couldn't survive, no we couldn't survive, no. Salvation came a tumbling and it quickly quieted these lungs.
I said, oh darling, put me to bed.
Line up these beasts “'cause they're walking scared”
we move so quick so debonair
Calisthenic innovation among awkward stares
tight-lipped maintain these hardwood floors
redefine, recreate behind cellar doors
petrify to preserve that which we adore
We chased a whole damn cloud of fireflies
Into the backwoods beyond the citylights
There I learned to believe my weary eyes
They allowed me a spoonful of grace.
We couldn't survive, no we couldn't survive, no. What'cha gonna do when I finally call that flood?
We couldn't survive, no we couldn't survive, no. Salvation came a tumbling and it quickly quieted these lungs.
I said, oh darling, put me to rest.
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2. |
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The past few nights I've been shying away from broken windows pale, reflections a little tooclose to home these days.
The past few weeks I've been avoiding all of my old glass friends, total clarity still brings me trouble.
The past few months I've been running something similar to scared, Philosophies of passing adolescence.
The past recedes, oh so quick and despite me, the little man in my stomach keeps on grumbling.
Empty bottles and blurry nights, Lord I'm coming home to you.
Misplaced teeth and faux-fistfights, oh my god, I swear it's true.
Empty bottles and blurry nights, Lord I'm coming home to you. Misplaced teeth and faux-fistfights, I swear!
I drink, I drink, to immortalize the past, I sing these sad songs to make sure that sorrow lasts.
There once was a God, but he was shot dead by a man, and while I know I don't know much, I trust in the lay of the land.
I drink, I drink, to castrate the past, I sing these sad songs to make sure that sorrow lasts.
There once was a God, but he was shot dead by a man, and while I know I don't know much, I trust in the lay of the land.
The past few nights I've been shying away from broken windows pale, convalescent are the eyes that try to meet my gaze.
The past few weeks I've been avoiding all of my old glass friends, even broken they still stand tall and call me brother.
The past few months I've been running something similar to scared, taking names from my old childhood ledger.
The past recedes, oh so quickly and despite me, the little man in my gut he keeps on screaming.
Empty bottles and blurry nights, Lord I'm coming home to you.
Misplaced teeth and faux-fistfights, oh my god, I swear it's true.
Empty bottles and blurry nights, Lord I'm coming home to you. Misplaced teeth and faux-fistfights, I swear!
I drink, I drink, to immortalize the past, I sing these sad songs to make sure that sorrow lasts.
There once was a God, but he was shot dead by a man, and while I know I don't know much, I trust in the lay of the land.
I drink, I drink, to castrate the past, I sing these sad songs to make sure that sorrow lasts.
There once was a God, but he was shot dead by a man, and while I know I don't know much, I trust in the lay of the land.
Counting down, counting down the days.
Passing through, passing through disgrace.
Now I know that old bottle, from the starving crow.
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3. |
Abel
04:24
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Abel lies awake by night and counts all of his crooked teeth, fingers each misplaced slight with which he can't compete.
His mother sighs “oh abel child, 25 been running since 19, bottles and dimes piled high, is that why you struggle to breathe?”
Oh Abel. Abel! Oh Abel. Abel! Go driving late every night up and down these same streets.
Oh Abel. Abel! Oh Abel. Fucking Abel! Claim you see an end in sight but when will you learn stop?
As I lie in bed, there's always movement behind these eyelids, something akin to panic.
As I I try to sleep, I find no comfort in these dead sheep, in these dead sheep.
Oh father, If only there'd been something more than grains of sand to build some honest callouses.
Oh mother, I guess I just miss, I just miss...
Those stories, the ones we used to tell by night.
I guess I miss those stories, the ones where happiness wasn't found, but hard fought and earned.
Abel's aboard a freighter ship, a place to call his own. He claims he's found brothers and purpose clear and strong.
Late at night as he walks the deck, he writes Dear Mom and Dad, you'll be so proud of your wayward son, the promises lying ahead.
Oh Abel. Abel! Oh Abel. Abel! Tells them of the pretty girl he meets when he pulls into port
Oh Abel. Abel! Oh Abel. Fucking Abel! Soon enough he'll learn that the sea ain't the only thing starting to swell.
As I lie in bed, there's always movement behind these eyelids, something akin to panic.
As I I try to sleep, I find no comfort in these dead sheep, in these dead sheep.
Oh father, If only there'd been something more than grains of sand to build some honest callouses.
Oh mother, I guess I just miss, I just miss...
Those stories, the ones we used to tell by night.
I guess I miss those stories, the ones where happiness wasn't found, but hard fought and earned.
Abel you're a God, Abel you're a bastard, Abel you're my motherfucking son.
Abel you're a punk, Abel you're a waste of space, Abel you'll always be the one.
Abel you're Saint, Abel you're in disarray, Abel you're my motherfucking son.
Abel you're drunk, walking these tired avenues, Abel you'll always be the one!
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4. |
50 Dead Men
04:23
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50 dead men push away from a quickly sinking ship
In passing they're all wondering what's to become of this
Situational rhymes with travesty when reason is nothing more
As the crackling hull snaps clean in two, they're all scrambling for oars
The strong swim with the weak to the only raft that didn't go down
Blind eyes to wounds and guts, they're screaming “brother we'll make it out”
As 50 men defiant cry “we've got camaraderie aboard”
The ship dives with a heavy sigh, taking with it something pure
By daybreak of the next morning there's only 25 left
For the 25 gone missing, they're all claiming heaven-sent
But for the sick and the wounded and the bloody, each man's too parched to shed tear
They push the bodies out, and on the horizon they disappear
Nightfall on the fourth day dims on slim and ragged 15
Knship wains as palor grows and the brotherhood recedes
Silence reigns as each man begins to drown in thoughts of home
The bond they shared went down with the whiskey and the ship down below
I still believe in something scarce but pure
You'll find me out sifting through the ocean's floor
But the things we lost burned as quick as they sank below
to leave me out here wondering “how'd it come to this?”
Sun sets on the 7th day as in the distance they spy land
Only 10 men remain but the lifeboat is in disrepair
With sideways eyes they all know there's too much weight to make it back
Jaws are clenched and knives creep out as the night sky fades to black
40 years have come and gone and now 6 weathered men
meet every second sunday to sit in a park and reminisce
They say these kids today forget all that we gave up in their names
Ignoring the scars that line their hands from brothers given away
I still believe in something scarce but pure
You'll find me out sifting through the ocean's floor
But the things we lost burned as quickly as they sank below
to leave me out here wondering “how'd it come to this?”
We pulled on the shore
Limbs weak and all covered in sores
and they said “I know us well
How'd it come to this?"
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5. |
I Recognize
02:57
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I Recognize! These streets from their cracks and these old tired conversations from their silences.
I Remember! Tracing my shadow on that wall, a reminder to myself I'd always call this place home!
You, you said, I was to build a house on the shoreline
of stones, and sticks, and all of the angry words i learned
Not, to say, but push deep down low in my gut
until they burned, away, I learned to separate the gold from my grief
I Recognize! These streets from their cracks and these old tired conversations from their silences.
I Remember! Tracing my shadow on that wall, a reminder to myself I'd always call this place home!
They, they said, demons are born in between soft sheets
where we lay, our heads, and sleep away days that we've all come to dread
And we sink, it deep, existing in spaces untouched by these grapevines
Rife, with deceit, I learned to separate myself from my needs
I Recognize! These streets from their cracks and these old tired conversations from their silences.
I Remember! Tracing my shadow on that wall, a reminder to myself I'd always call this place home!
I recognize these fault lines
I remember your promises of silence in despite of me.
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6. |
The Ocean
04:54
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This great green ocean, carries the promise of a shoreline.
And the flotsam and jetsam, carry gifts from abroad.
So across this beachfront, I pace just like an expecting father
And the crabs all scuttle away, I let my feet fall hard,with no attention to where they land, my eyes trained on the coming waves
I pray one crashes over me, bringing sensibility and seaglass!
I remember as an infant, I was first ripped from the ocean,
my gills ever shrinking slits until my chest was forced to rise and fall.
I held visions of a return but this hard packed earth makes magnetic claims,
my pores cry for seamist.
I remember my first visit, as I made my way down the cliffside,
the creatures all waved me down as they pulled themselves up on the shore,
they said welcome home my kin, won't you stay for just one drink,
I said I'd love to, but could I even stand it?
And now you start to feel betrayed
They say it's comes natural with age
This tide brings in a rush of change
And my growing sense of rage!
We crawled so far, and hardened these lungs,
when you cut ties you risk coming undone.
So now I'm forcing these legs, so quick to disobey
Nostalgia scars my neck in three curved lines where I used to breathe,
With basic faith, I'm struggling
Nostalgia scars my neck in three curved lines where I used to breathe,
Rocky shores, do you still love me?
I remember it came softly, I'd drift in salty adulation
my skin would drink itself clean as the seaweed kissed my back and toes
I swam without will or thought but wooded spaces made such kind appeals
My eyes were pulled abroad
I remember my first footsteps, with such willful trepidation
Some kindly folks with leather shoes and rough hands offering so much more
I stumbled blind with bleary eyes, could I have looked back
I would have spied the only body that loved to hold me
And now you start to feel betrayed
They say it's comes natural with age
This tide brings in a rush of change
And my growing sense of rage!
We crawled so far, and hardened these lungs,
when you cut ties you risk coming undone.
So now I'm forcing these legs, so quick to disobey
Nostalgia scars my neck in three curved lines where I used to breathe,
With basic faith, I'm struggling
Nostalgia scars my neck in three curved lines where I used to breathe,
Rocky shores, do you still love me?
I rigged up a simple apparatus, some shackles a rope and a stone,
I'll hold this head underwater 'til I learn to breathe once more.
A cacophony of cackling kooks, awaits on the other side,
At the final minute that rope always seems to snap, is it the rope or the hand that designs?
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Bucky Harris Montréal, Québec
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