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1. |
Introduction
00:57
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2. |
For the Sake of the Song
03:08
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For the Sake of the Song
And everytime I sat and rhymed,
It wasn't worth the thought.
To sum it up in fragment lots,
won't kill this writer's block
all my fears and doubts,
as I beg for one good line.
The notes I sing in hopes for grace,
won't make up for what I've done.
With each refrain, my efforts wane.
I could only hope that my mind is capable,
cause Lord knows I've tried.
The things I've said couldn't mean less
than what I wrote about and hid away
for years I've lived a lie.
It's starting to catch up with me,
while the middle eight does it's best to replace
each listener with some rhetorical exchange.
Poor minstrel, play for me.
Oh singer, sing to me.
My dear friend, say something.
Hey lover, lie to me.
Are we at the point where the audience joins
for the sake of the song?
I'd say anything, if it meant anything,
at the expense of the rhyme.
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3. |
We're Getting Older
03:37
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We're Getting Older
Rise and shine, you're right on
time to go and start it over.
Don't shake your head, get out of bed
c'mon at least you're breathing.
You've got your right foot out the door but
you left all your chances behind.
I know you're not giving up,
but it sure don't look like you've been trying.
There was this boy, did he have some great ambitions!
He fell in love, gave it one hell of a fight,
now who's the victim?
He watched those big dreams drift away,
along with his sincerity.
Now that I'm older now,
I can't help thinking that I've lost my chance.
Wake up, wake up, cause it's not over!
Get up, get up! We're getting older!
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4. |
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The One Who Wanders is Not Lost
We sat on separate sides,
on the Long Island Railway line.
You mumble to yourself,
what gets fixed is not what helps.
Could you help me out?
I am on my way towards
an old midwestern state.
I've known this road before
filled with cheap booze and with whores.
Still, I may escape myself.
But in the end, my steps come trailing back to me,
and the gavel falls, on me.
Now looking back, on everyone I left
either gullible or floored, a tad bewildered or abhorred,
I guess I'm a good man. Yeah, I'm a safe bet.
But I'm afraid I've really lost it in the head.
Don't you hear what they said?
I'm the light, that burned the whole town down.
A couple of years before I knew where I was going.
I'd bow my head in somber prayer and watch my faith
slip into the cracks
A little compromise, the thrill of sweat in the moonlight.
What no one knows won't hurt. Oh no,
my sin won't find me..
Out of body, out of mind.
I used my worst traits as a baited line.
My best excuses to keep smiling
while you would change your clothes,
being sure to keep composed.
I am a church without a cross.
I am the sin you come across.
I am the doubt, I am your loss.
I am nothing. I am lost.
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5. |
Doctor Edward
02:46
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Doctor Edward
Doctor Edward wrote the note,
prescribing a large dose of placebos and positive thinking.
"..and it's just as I had hoped! It should take two weeks at most
if I swallow it all down and schrug, gotta take it like a man!"
That's when she cut in and said,
"that's no way to help your convicted heart start beating again".
Just cause you're doing well, doesn't mean you've done no good.
Just cause you feel something, doesn't mean that I've been touched.
Won't you be my escape? Be my medicine.
I've got what it takes, to take you on.
So take me on.
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6. |
A Cemetery of Sorts
02:38
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A Cemetery of Sorts
I am no man of means and I only waste my time
practicing what I love and preaching that I'm fine.
I want your sympathy, I need all your support,
so I can assume the role and take what I afford.
The band still needs me, so I'm not leaving.
Though I still believe in spring, the autumn will arrive.
The yard becomes a mass burial ground,
a cemetery of sorts.
With looming arms of trees, ashamed of what they lost.
They trade the summer's shade for a winter wrought with lust and pain.
Are we not the same?
I am no man of wealth, who knows when I will wed?
I want to fall in love, no thought to where we rest.
I am no prodigal, I know that I am lost,
but once I find the plan, I'm taking my first chance.
The road less travelled, feels too crowded.
I'm never getting any place, with the pace I'm at.
This town's become a mass burial ground,
a cemetery of sorts.
With all my friends and loved ones berating every move.
They're stuck on who we were and how things never change,
but my love has lived and died and I am not the same.
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7. |
Edward Hughes
02:42
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Edward Hughes
Edward Hughes lives a lie,
with a flask of gin by his side.
No one watches when, they don't think of him,
there's no telling if he will pull through.
Wide awake, reading books,
scratching notes, revising old plans.
No don't think of me, I am all I need.
I'm the pages that you'll never see.
Edward Hughes lives alone,
petrified of being alive.
Look at everyone, wishing they were young.
Slave to steady jobs, steady as she comes and goes.
And the others play off the older ones.
Waiting for some golden day, for that golden age
when luck will change.
Edward Hughes, counts his teeth,
pulls his hair from the drain of the sink.
Just another day, I'll wash it all away,
I'll take these filthy hands, I'll be a better man.
I'll take my medicine and positive thinking,
I''ll forget what I've done, start it all again.
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8. |
Houses for Homes
02:34
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Houses for Homes
I thought I was onto something
but the winds of change, they've hounded for my sake.
I'm disappointed with the way I've lived,
but it's these mistakes that have kept me interested.
Another day, another dollar lost.
Why work at all when your employer robs?
So if you leave it, will you let it go
or find out your house was no home?
I didn't think so.
Now all your friends have turned and walked away
and they laugh like dogs when you wish that they would stay.
When safety's gone and sleep has lost it's place,
your church becomes a hall for catching up.
And love is just a word you throw around
to the next girl you sleep with who puts out.
I used to drive to travel place to place,
but now I drive get the hell away.
So if I leave you, will I ever know
what accomplishments and joy that I've left?
Is it even worth the chance?
to live my life and to sacrifice my only shot
to be something that I'm not
going to find a way to settle down,
cause all those paths are recycled and washed out.
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9. |
I'm the Passenger
07:04
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I'm the Passenger
I heard about all your new friends,
such a good life, seems like you're doing well.
Tell me how, how long did it take for you to manage
your big escape?
Was it in your eyes?
Was it your winning charm?
Could it be something I did
that made you so sick of the secrets?
For once in my life, I'm not sorry for anything.
Cause when done is done, I'm just a passenger.
So here I lay in a stranger's bed.
My head aches and my throat burns
from these late nights and spirit drinks.
Such poor advice from mixed company.
But I hold on to every word,
desperate for my missing piece.
With my fingers frozen to a glass bottle,
I watch fleeting friends light their cigarettes.
What is left to prove?
Where do I fit in?
Do I still have it in me?
Well, is anyone listening?
For once in my life, I'm not sorry for anything.
Cause when done is done, and when my time comes,
oh when done is done, I'm just a passenger.
I once was alive, but now I'm just living.
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10. |
For the Love of the Game
03:54
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For the Love of the Game
So you want me to tell you what's happening to us?
I guess nobody told you anything about me.
I am, sincerely, the most insincere man you will ever love.
Wasn't the first and it won't be the last time
we sing these silent songs.
Forgot or too far gone?
I can't quite place the face that led me in the wrong.
Margarita's got a broken jaw
from running her big mouth all around town.
Sure she's a kissing queen but too much you see
will leave you more than a little drunk.
Couldn't you just keep this between us?
I'll always find a way to gain your trust.
Wasn't the first and you won't be the last one
who will sing this silent song.
Was it for love or for the love of the game?
Eight months of debauchery, Eight months of denial.
I loathed every moment but loved how it felt.
Deciding the difference eludes me as well.
I've got a history of repeating misery.
There's just this sick safety in being sad.
Somebody please disarm my ego
before I'm swallowed in myself.
Should I forget? Am I too far gone
to do anything, say anything?
Was it all for the love of the game?
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11. |
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Life Declines at Twenty-Five
There's a fairground in my town where love was not enough
and while we spun around, my eyes were on the ground.
Hold my hand, she said, with desperation.
As she hung onto my arm, something in me died.
Now I don't sleep at night and I won't do what's right
cause I don't think there's time, but I want to try.
There's a childhood I almost forgot, then stumbled upon.
I can still see our naive faces, gazing out our classroom window
and right back at the clock.
Thinking back, I realize that's the closest I've ever been to love.
Purest intentions without a sign of doubt.
I was never the center of attention but I always came up in jokes.
I guess a callous mention is better than being forgotten.
But when you sat beside me and said you liked my drawings.
Well then, I'd shrug it off, I've always been too shy for words,
but you gave me the guts to speak up.
And I could sleep at night, cause I could see you tomorrow
and give it one last try. I still want to try.
Believe it when I say that life declines at twenty-five.
When I thought I was looking forward,
it turns out it's the end.
No more secrets.
No more schoolyard notes.
No more growing up.
No more best friends.
No more long phone calls.
No more first love.
I wish we could start it over
like when I could sleep at night, cause I could see you tomorrow
and give it one last try.
But I don't sleep at night, and I won't do what's right
cause I don't think there's time, but I want to try.
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12. |
It's a Good Year
05:58
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It's a Good Year
It's a good day to be alive but the worst way to live.
My friends are old, and their seeds are sown.
I'm looking on as life goes on.
It's a good year to be in love, and a better time to trust
Nobody is going to pick you up, when their arms are around your woman.
Cheer up, the air is clearer now,
You've got your head in the clouds and they're rising now.
I won't wait, I've waited too long.
I've got to get on out.
It's a fine way to settle down, when you haven't left the ground.
Don't take a risk, just save and sit.
Don't talk to me about your ten year itch.
There's no better time than now,
but I know you'll put it off for some time off.
But you know I can't wait to rub it in, to point the fingers back at you.
You should be careful where you lay your head.
There's all kind of webs, and you're just a regular kid.
Cheer up, the air is clearer now,
You've got your head in the clouds and they're rising now.
I won't wait, I've waited too long.
I've got to get on out.
If I sing and I make no sound.
If I'm alive and I'm underground.
If I've got eyes and I keep them shut,
Love and tell no one.
If I can swim and I choose to drown.
Have an idea and don't write it down.
If I forget what I need to say.
Shy away when you ask me to stay.
If I want to get out of this town
then what's taking me oh so long.
If my words ever meant a thing,
what makes me so different than you?
Cheer up, the air is clearer now,
You've got your head in the clouds and they're rising now.
I won't wait, I've waited too long.
I've got to get on out of this town.
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13. |
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I Am Only Above the Ground
I've been searching through my loose change.
I've been looking for a clean break.
I've been saving up for something,
but I can't afford a savior.
I am only going crazy, not gone yet.
I am only above the ground.
There's talk of a revival, don't go talking about survival.
I've hoped for something timeless, oh God,
all I wanted was more time.
So what's there to worry about?
We're single-celled and we're singled out
in a genetic sea.
I woke up to a singing bird,
he was boastful, proud and burden free.
I thought maybe we could learn something.
Well I'd sing along if I knew the words.
I am only lost and found.
I am only above the ground.
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More Than Skies Brooklyn, New York
Angsty Folk-Rock born & bred in NY.
More Than Skies recommends:
Mystical Shitheads
by Rice Cultivation Society
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