1. |
Thirty-Five Plums
04:28
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Thirty-five plums squishing under my feet, I'm not telling anyone. When I'm asleep who's looking after me? I could be traveling anywhere. I woke up in jeans. With photos from Greece and a postcard from myself to me. I'm hot, I'm so dry. Wandering the Sudan Desert with the vultures squawking, "Hi!". I woke up, my legs were sore. Been jumping off the Eiffel Tower away from her. "Stop that plane!" Please let me take an empty seat. I've got my ticket right here, although I'm not sure for where. I've just got these plums for a carry-on, and it's only me on this runway. I see no one else on this runway, run away. Tonight, where will I be? Maybe for a swim, this cold sweat smells like the sea. Drove all night, Turnpike receipt in hand. A thousand dollars from home to Rome, then back again. Thirty-five plums, squishing under my feet, I'm going to tell everyone. When I'm asleep, don't go after me. I'll be traveling everywhere.
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2. |
"You Have Good Taste"
03:10
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If only you could watch out through the glass on your TV. Oh, Rory, you are the one for me, forget about Jess and Dean. I've never read Proust but I know Bogart and Bergman, you play her I'll play him. We'll get some pizza and Red Vines and live the little things worth living. I've got what you're looking for: a spontaneous life of structure. Simple times of hugs and coffee, fries, shakes, town meeting lectures. I see you need love, well so do I. I've got adventures with happy endings that will keep you with Lorelai, because I know how hard it is to live without.
Lorelai, I know I'm young but I'm mature for my age. I watched you out in the first snow, until I fell off your stage. I'm in love with your zealous wit, and your animated nose. Can't tell you how many times I've tracked back to watch it in slow-mo. I see you need love, just like me, I've got adventures with happy endings that will keep you with Rory, because I know how hard it is to live without. I see you need love to last forever, I've got adventures with happy endings that will keep you both together, because I know how hard it is to live without.
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3. |
Business Ethics
00:51
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Text message radio is next, so I though I'd take a break, find a sandwich, wrapped up in plastic. The flavors are only names. And the grid that builds the homes takes the shape upon silicon chemical grass that smells a lot like paint, "Don't you think?" Gadgets make no workday short. Attention's extent shaped-shift by Michael Bay. I hope this isn't the start, because efficiency kills the heart.
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4. |
The Kicker
06:01
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When the earth stops spinning, and we all go flying, I pray to Jesus [hay-zeus] I'm hanging out with you. So I better stick by your side for all times. It's the safest place to be, anyway. Remember when we drove to California in an hour? The sun moved so quickly. And our watches both became two days ahead. That was so weird. You'll find evidence of our romance between the cushions of the couch, bits of cookies and candy. And although the delicious, your sweet, sweet blinking, and breathing, and your heart beating put sugar to shame. But here's the kicker. I don't' know anyone to sing this song to. I can't think of anyone to have written this for, so listeners, I give this song to you, until I find someone I adore.
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5. |
Bullets
03:28
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It's an open wound, the blood is changing shades. Take some salt and rub it in until the right profile is met. Peruse the gallery of this modern art, orange to red, no need for the blue. Helpless held by the throat, a hostage does what is is told. Fear is a powerful thing, I've got the gun to show. I'm so scared, I'm so scared, I'm so scared. A vote for the illusion seems all I can do. While teh colors match the suit, bullets on the dance floor, cowboys behind oak doors, play the game of "who's who?"
"Do you believe in God?" or should I shoot you too? No matter the skin tone, we get buried in the same holes, white is not the only color afraid of blood red. Put your dick away and and let's all calm down, so many scars won't buy the world. Time goes by, but history hangs around. So many scars can't buy the world.
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6. |
Golden Anniversary
03:46
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A call away, happy to hear, a voice, no force, friends make the best noise. The gang's all here and we can't wait. There's no gas, just hope and a laugh I can taste. I sense danger, hands hold old friends. A tremor, a pressure, wear this "raspberry sweater". I smell an end, so let go with the fist. It's the gift of G.A.B., you're my friend so drink this. It's the beginning of the end. Killing inhibitions hold my cares. Hit the streets the next round is on me. Sing our songs and break some shit, while we make a toast from under the stairs. Here's a gift from me to you, pass it around the whole room. It may be the last time, we'll make a toast from under the stairs. This generation of debt and rent, us kids are lost but we're with each other. The year may pass unsuccessful, but with the gift of G.A.B. we all get hopeful. One more round for the kids in the back. One last cheer, make some noise, a planned attack. Hold me close, can't fight this alone. Beat up streets, no hope but home.
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7. |
Cocoon
03:45
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From my cocoon it's hard to see out. It doesn't look like much but it's fancy as anything can be. It's where I play, where I grow. Where I look out through my dirty window. At the end of each long thread, I only want to wrap you up inside with me. By the end of each long day, I just need to forget about the hope, the chance, the stats, the "it", the known. As I fall asleep I ask myself, "Has anyone seen the lucky? Where on earth is this 'it'?, And who has yet to quit feeling pain?" Where I look for you out my dirty window, what if I can't stop? What if I don't survive? Will I die in this cocoon, and not become a butterfly? Please look after me, whoever you might be. I only know of a couple truths of which you'll have to agree. Where I close these blinds of my dirty window. It's not time to crawl out yet, that I know for sure. Because never say "never" as nothing lasts forever. It's not time yet, I'm not ready. Because love is when you're finally happy with what you've got.
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8. |
We Don't Exist
07:40
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Time is now but I said it then, despite "here we are" not "way back when". I'll go on and on and on and on, act now, act again. Think how I'm never and always gone. Sailing along they hit rough skies, the crew jumped overboard. The ship lent no hands to safety, sailors sunk to the bottom, fell toward the ground. Except four who washed up on the moon. They kissed the soil, cried for their loss and waited for their rescue. Set up camp and whistled this tune. I'm never sure if I'm in the right place, although I doubt there can be a wrong. We can only judge life from the watch on the wrist, I conclude we don't exist, or everything is always still happening. Atop a lighthouse, close and far away from the wreck, I spotted the night sailors alive on the moon. I launched out a rescue line to pull them in, one sailor grabbed the rope but stood still and stared. With the rough tug he pulled me down, with the lighthouse crumbling to the striking ground,. Then I found myself standing on the shore of a bright-white barren land with the rope in my hand. As I fell far, far down I became blinded by the wings of a lunar moth. It swooped me up to save me from the fall. We headed for the moon and picked up the crew, including my other self. I threw down the rope as we headed far and away, we flew on for infinity. To guide light across all space and time, I write from its back, lost and found in every clock's chime.
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9. |
Vinegar and Baking Soda
04:32
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In a movie lullaby with my hear newly furnished with a change in tones. I run through the most beautiful no-name city, to find my one true love. I run in step to the soft single of a rising star, blaring through he romantic architecture of an unconscious swarm of popcorn. Fitting of me like the simple terms of vinegar and baking soda, I run. Passing million dollar stoops, home of young struggling bees in black. I hand her a fichus after a series of quirky mishaps and comical blunders involving a flower shop fresh out of flowers. We kiss. Colored cuts and bruises. To end at the beginning with the phrase, "It's a long story."
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10. |
20, 21
06:49
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Threw my books down the well, said "Goodbye" to a few, some I didn't tell. I couldn't have foreseen 21 thousand miles, but I got there, with smiles in style. Crossed the Royal, found Mr. Fuse alive, Heightstown drives bloom in the night. Through Windsor windows and Princeton Woods, Oshkosh as friends, so together we stood. Wanted to join the line, so I signed up , sad back, enjoyed myself, made out real well, it went by quick, stopped there pressed on, though in the end. But back and forth we trudged on and on again. Best summer of my life. Down homeless roads, me and the confused men dodged tornadoes while the smart ones fled. "Keep still, they say the wolves are running." Drive west, drive east, Manus said I'm coming. Crossed the Royal, returned Fuse alive, twenty paces with time, hell yeah, I shot at five. Through Windsor windows and Princeton Woods, New Jersey's my home, got back there as fast as I could. We all want an adventure with meaning, so go get it, if you want it. It's there. Crossed the Royal, Fuse was still alive. He said "good work, son, now don't be shy" Through Windsor windows and Princeton Woods. It's my home, I came home.
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