1. |
Waking Love
03:22
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If only for a moment,
a moment with you.
Even in my loneliness,
a dream could feel true
Amelie DVD, come watch it with me.
Masterpiece, seen it twice,
that would be nice.
If I knew it was waking love we could find a way.
If I knew it was waking love we could a way to chase the dream into the day.
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2. |
Calling Graves
04:35
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I remember calling graves
somewhere near the fourth,
in that sentimental phase.
Trailing like the light of a sparkler,
trailing from the source,
and now you’re spelling your full name.
No lover, no friends,
no spirit just pretend.
No aura, no spark,
no secret birth mark.
No object unseen,
no permanence of anything.
No spirit here,
there’s only me.
Turning like a page in the Guardian,
turning from the source,
and now I’m reading your full name again
And it feels the same,
like:
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3. |
Canada
02:18
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I feel just like a dresser drawer
that’s gone off track.
I don’t fit anymore.
I feel like I’m a dresser drawer
that’s gone off track.
There’s no pulling back.
Morning after Mardi Gras,
waking up in Canada,
passing as a francophone I wish
I knew the word…
I feel just like a cul-de-sac,
I want whiplash.
There’s no turning back.
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4. |
Ghost Telephone
02:36
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Ypsi friend-group schism,
light passes through prism,
but at night rainbow light
brightens up the minds of friends.
The place we met is gone.
Somehow keeps its lights on.
The phones we used are dead,
those txts always unread,
but at night blue-scale light
brightens up the face of friends.
Ypsi friend-group schism,
light passes through prism.
The place we met is gone,
but still I hear your song.
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5. |
Ambient Pressure
04:02
|
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It's been a long time the battle with the sun.
Caught underneath the waves and always looking up.
Trying to trace the ripples always giving up,
so deciding terrifying, every crest and trough.
Coming out because the sand mimics every thought.
At least it's tenacious although my face is hot.
Driving down Washtenaw and now I find myself
in search of something that could maybe help.
Mars in Cancer, still no answer.
Ambient pressure.
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6. |
Mind Moat
05:34
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On a bicycle—but made of sound:
something unfamiliar,
concept instiller.
It’s the pinnacle—of getting ‘round:
in and out of atmosphere,
totem of air clear,
but is there a motorcar
that we can drive
across the border
of your mind?
Ceiling tiles at night become the floor:
social isolation,
thought separation.
Pentagrams are written on each door:
engine invocation,
teleportation,
but is there a motorcar
that we can drive
across the border
of your mind?
[MOAT]
But is there a motorcar
that we can drive
down to a foamy shore
where we can find
some sort of murky pool
(some sort of murk)
where we can dive
into the moat
around your mind?
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