1. |
Sweet Ashes
03:00
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You left me sweet ashes
Now I’m burnt and maimed inside
The taste brings me back to another life
As my soul breaks apart and weeps
Give me your absolution
My savior in your powdered bones
The bitterness is what I mistook for sugar
Pleasure in my pain is how I take my shame
Is what I am today
Every time I close my eyes I see you
Your car burning slowly on the frozen plains
As the ambulance lights flicker off the snow
And they bring your body home
You left me sweet ashes
I’ve got no one but myself to blame
We fought, I yelled, and told you to leave
As tears streamed down your face
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2. |
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The man in the mirror
Told me I’m wrong
Showed me every wart, scar, naked and all
He shaves for the world
The cuts on his face
Bleed into the sink
And flow down to the drain
Late in the night
He stares back at me
Wondering if I’m hiding poison in me
I look through you and into me
A king crowned in shaving cream
Made in our image
Of white and pale and black and red
The man in the mirror
Told me I’m wrong
Showed me every wart, scar, naked and all
He shaves for the world
The blood on his face
Dries in the sun
And washes off with the rain
Late in the night
I stare back at him
Wondering if he’s hiding poison in him
I look through you and into me
A king crowned in shaving cream
Made in our image
Of white and pale and black and red
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3. |
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Leslie talks to her newspaper piles
April 8, 2009 says, “No worries.”
And Leslie screams, “What the hell are you talking about!?”
“These stories here could take your eyes out!”
And Leslie cries
So she grabs a light
And reads about an 11-year-old boy
Who shot himself today
While her lungs fill with smoke and her cancer grows
Leslie pulls down the shades
Looking outside, but never walking out
“You’re crazy,” she says to herself, almost casually
While the newspaper towers pile higher
And Leslie smiles
At the wrinkled and torn photograph
A picture of her sweet Jacqueline
Whose body rots beneath an apple tree
She went missing 20 years ago
Leslie still remembers her
Leslie still remembers her
Oh, Leslie still remembers her
Leslie still remembers her
And Leslie cries
So she grabs a light
As her cigarette falls from her hands
Newspaper catches fire
Now nothing but her flesh and bones remain
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4. |
Kazenski 3:17
03:00
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There’s no fear in my head
To borrow the stones
That may pass over my eyes
And when my blood shuts me up
Sorrow won’t make a cancer out of me
Or you
And I raged through the tears
Crashed my fists through the bathroom mirror
Laughter shot me down
As I rang up nihilistic savings
What is me and I and this is all a little bit surreal?
Why can’t I shake this stupid feeling
That I’ll end up an old picture by your bed?
There’s no fear in my head
To borrow the stones
That may pass over my eyes
And when my lungs bow me out
Flowers won’t do a damn for me
Or you
Give me light, give me darkness
I surrender
It’s my thinning season
Don’t remember me as
I am now
Or as some perfection
This is all I leave - dirt spinning slowly round a dying star
But it’s worth more than you can imagine
It’s life and I want more
There’s no fear in my head
To borrow the stones that may pass over my eyes
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5. |
Hollow Words
03:18
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At 2 a.m. I picked up the phone
A voice with fear quivered in a bow
That shot through me and tore through stone
Emergency room fluorescent lights
That bleed into my thoughts tonight
My mother lying pale, but not forgotten
Hollow words will feed my grief for you
Hollow, hollow words will feed my grief for you
Condolences from strangers and friends
Clichés and words that play pretend
Your numb, but keep on pretending
A voice mail whispered in your ear
You called and said a storm was near
And worried, you said you loved me
Hollow words will feed my grief for you
Hollow, hollow words will feed my grief for you
Hollow words will feed my grief for you
Hollow words will feed my grief for you
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6. |
Mosaics from Room 32-B
03:26
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Of wrinkled and degenerate skin
That sags and sticks to clocks
The old man took his fill
He took his wings and left them in his wallet
Grandkids made of scrap meals and cussed out walls
Bought him a wheelchair, bent and used
With rolled up paralysis
With arthritis stained hands
He made a prophecy out of coupons
Declaring “Peace for our time!”
To the millions of hallowed customers
Who told him that buy one, get one free is to surrender
And then he stuffed them in dressers
Next to shoes and socks
Now comes the cigarette, puffed and cradled
The fill of its tobacco crust
He likes to smoke it on the porch
With his little bit of hair making a home
From the musty scent of dried nicotine
Licks at the brown
Doubles up the batch
And wears his consistency
And through the smoke he sees
Old Frank in a bag of skin and bones
Old Frank who claimed that he was 903
Who swore that he was Houdini’s apprentice
Who cursed at the laws of entropy by saying “What the hell”
And who ate up cancer in the silence of a bedspread
Between the dim, he stares
At the walls around him
And listens for the change as it happens
From the night’s gallery
Dull patients make their mark
And his ears tune to rushed breaths and thudding
What he heard came suddenly
Like a flicker of a light
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7. |
Your Last After All
01:51
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Tonight, our hearts beat eternal
Though the breeze will choke us out
Despite all our complications and wrongs
Hold me near, hold me near
Hold me near
Oh, hold me near
Tonight might be your last after all
When the poison settles in our spines
Will romance matter in the end?
There’s no cure, but I am willing
I won’t resent our love
Happy days aren’t a given
That’s a deal that’s well worth making
When you’re in love
Your heart is known from blood to bone
Tonight might be your last after all
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8. |
Apocalyptic Love Song
03:41
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I’m here in the valley
Gonna break free and run
But there’s nothing left to run from
And it’s all true that I feel
So indifferent to me
Houses burnt out and bleached
Life’s a dog left to bleed
And the sun’s beating down on suburbian tombs
While the dust starts to bloom
And the mountains stand solemn in their ancient stones
And the forests will grow with rusted cars and jaw bones
Shopping carts in the dirt
And I’m thinking of nothing but the comedy in this
That’s the tragedy of this
In apocalyptic love songs
That shelter the fact that it’s the end of us all
And into darkness we go
Into nothingness we go
And the time we have is irredeemable
But my pride wouldn’t tell on you
It’s the unforeseen consequence
Of your car, of your job and your life
Isn’t in demand
That’s the crux of it
That keeps you up at night
And when you sleep your memories crawl back to normalcy
And you’re screaming in your dreams
You’re screaming in your dreams
And you’re screaming in your dreams
You’re screaming in your dreams
Can you hear the rain fall on the valley below?
Can you hear the rain fall on the valley below?
Through the charred remains of rot and bones
That’s just what the future holds
It’s not life on Earth that ends with us
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9. |
My Cosmic Joke
03:00
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I don’t trust myself anymore
When it’s just the long con of romance
I could kid myself into believing
But I’ve never had that much faith to begin with
Is this my cosmic joke?
Better than I hoped
I’m being sarcastic now
That you ought to know
Feels like I’m a walking punchline
To the person I thought I’d be someday
Sometimes regret is the only answer
When hypocrisy gets the best of you
Is this my cosmic joke?
Better than I hoped
I’m being sarcastic now
That you ought to know
Daydreams never last a minute
I’m for the infatuation game
Telltale signs that your resentful
Like opening old wounds just for the fun of it
I’m getting used to being right
Most of the time
Just smile and pretend with a little spite
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10. |
Dust Smiles
02:03
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You bite your lip, then bare your fangs
It’s all dust smiles here
Playing coy with yourself
Don’t forget to misgive
Your wound is healed
The leech comes off
But your face is still so pale
Maybe you shouldn’t use a leech
For modern medicine?
Your jaw is shut
But the words spill out
“Blood is no blood for me”
Your smile turns to rot
As it eats you bit by bit
Bit by bit, bit by bit
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11. |
Mother's Day
03:45
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$4.95 for a sentimental Mother’s Day card
You bought at the store
$14.95 for flowers rotting for a smile
You’ll never see anymore
The lilacs bloom through concrete and stone
$9,975.95 for ashes in your hands
55 years and 9 months
Sometimes life really isn’t fucking fair
And on the radio you hear about the Mother’s Day sales
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12. |
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Knowing is half the blame
A cancer with hands to shake
The marrow you sucked
From bones to gain
For you
Oxygen longs to breathe
The ocean could swallow me
What a disgrace
Our disgrace
Knowing is half the blame
Pleasantries wrought mistakes
All that you want is vain and dumb
For you who cradles the coin
Buys shit to enjoy
And builds walls to destroy
Now I’m touched with some pageantry
Knowing is half the fight
For the weary and bold
To spite
Knowing is half the blame
A con game turned to fame
A lion that skinned the world in two
For you
A planet to pave and plot
Your love the almighty buck
What a disgrace
My disgrace
Knowing is half the blame
A cognitive mirror to break
Your conscience longs to fuck your brain
But you can take my hand
Knowing is all that’s left
Knowing is all that’s left for us
At least inside we shelter lies
At least inside we shelter lies
At least we know we’re the only ones to blame
And that’s the story of the human race
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13. |
Saint Agnes
03:38
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Eternity wrapped in silhouettes
The airplane passes overhead
Dark red ribbons curled in her hair
Her father ties her shoes
She says, “Daddy, what’s the point of this?”
I don’t really know
Life just is and so it goes
As we circle ‘round the sun
And in 200 years no more memories remain
Of you, your life, and everything you make
Now she’s married with four children
A waitress mixing valium with wine
Her husband kicks in the TV
As her daughter’s tears subside
She whispers, “Mommy, what’s the point of this?”
I don’t really know
Life just is and so it goes
As we circle ‘round the sun
And in 200 years no more memories remain
Of you, your life, and everything you make
The IV drips through her veins
She’s 84 and ravaged by dementia
Now her daughter holds her hand
And as the EKG goes dead
She whispers, “Daddy, what’s the point of this?”
I don’t really know
Life just is and so it goes
As we circle ‘round the sun
And in 200 years no more memories remain
Of you, your life, and everything you make
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14. |
The Wind Phone
03:59
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Raindrops make your tombstone blush
And the wind takes your breath away
Your corpse looks like a wax museum
And I can’t remember your face
Now I’m drifting into sleep
And your absence feels like a chain
You’re thunder in my heartbeat
And the wind through my bones
The phone is ringing
Is it you or just a dream that I’ve sewn?
Sunlight makes your coffin smirk
While flowers eat up memories
Your skeleton is punctual
But why would that matter to me?
Now the wind is crying
As your voice fades away I’m buried
You’re thunder in my heartbeat
And the wind through my bones
The phone is ringing
Is it you or just a dream that I’ve sewn?
You’re thunder in my heartbeat
And the wind through my bones
The phone is ringing
Is it you or just a dream that I’ve sewn?
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15. |
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A quarter for your thoughts indivisible
They line the streets with “Can you spare a buck?”
In rags and trucker hats
The wind cuts cloth from flesh
To breed new ghosts
To howl down alleys
With a throatful of hornets
To beg like a fish
With a hook for a donation
To gather shopping carts
Be they tin cans or your savior
Why look at me,
When you’re paying to not look?
A penny for a nickel for the moral of the story that you’re told
A quarter for your liberty huddle
Around drums of fire near the highway underpass
With cardboard angel wings
And hymns from dim street lamps
That herald new ghosts
Who dream of a beast
Whether hunter or hunted
Who vanish in a mist
To drown inside a bottle
Who sing like a saw below high-rise apartments
Who half-heartedly cry
Are we not a sovereign nation?
Why look at me,
When you’re paying to not look?
A penny for a nickel for the moral of the story that you’re told
Holy, holy albatross
Spread your wings unto the sun
If your feathers turn to fire and dust
There is silence
Oh, there is silence
Holy, holy albatross
You are not the curse, the crux
The face you wear is the face of us
In our kingdoms of storms and shipwrecks
The beast you starve is a ghost defined
With shadows curled around your eyes
And when you look will they disappear?
Or will their eyes be your mirror?
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16. |
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You crawl back inside yourself
Bruises blooming from your scars
Makes you want to clench your fists with all your rage
The hallway where you run again
Open the door, the blood is thick
Till your father’s face burns, burns
Time again
The pain will break you
Weaken and defy you
Tear through your moments
Of every minute of every day
The knife pulls you in
Cuts you deep
To wound your mercy
The gun in your hand
Takes its pride
With a shot of penance
The ocean in her lungs
Calls you back
To admit forgiveness
The pain will shape you
Collapse and rebuild you
Give thanks for your moments
Of every minute of every day
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17. |
Traveler's Hymn
03:37
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With broken arms around my heart
I couldn’t bear to find
My aching little misanthropic lies
Oh, steal my pride
And drown my time
In the nonsense of a fruitful little life
Just leave me raw
To the years left ahead
And the sound of a beating heart
That broke through the mess
And the time we walk
Is a time held true
What are tears?
What are tears if not for living?
And the night brought binding wrath to bear
Right down upon my doorstep
And if I swear
I won’t be fooled
May I be brought to ruin
With saccharin blood spilled in the streets
No one knows what’s to come
For tomorrow we weep
And it’s time, sweet time
In the dark of the night
When the heart will stop it’s endless beating
And the night brought binding wrath to bear
Right down upon my doorstep
And if I swear
I won’t be fooled
May I be brought to ruin
With wrinkled hands and furrowed brow
No one knows when regret is the knife in the crowd
And it’s time, sweet time
In the dark of the night
When the heart will stop it’s endless beating
And it’s time
Give me time
When your old world dies
What you thought was fate
Is oh so fleeting
Give me time
Give me time
All my days of wasted time
With your marrow plucked
Your veins closed and shut
Don’t be sorry when
Your story comes to an end
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Chris Goudreau Greenfield, Massachusetts
Operatic rock vocals alongside a 12-string guitar.
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