1. |
Ghost World
02:59
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|
unabridged American ghost-note collection
we're in no-clip mode, no collision detection
ten-to-one odds, this is it we're finished with...
attention to delivery, no more of the Tennyson directive
whoever and everyone//folded sheet shadows
sleeves are caught in code names w/cigarettes etc, etc. (console yourself)
wealth is in character
I know all the different Mitford sisters
She's a flotsam of oak boughs and cisterns adrift but
got splintered lint fresh sheets, weekender deadbeats
you look like Unity, Isles Outer Hebrides
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2. |
No Passengers
02:07
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|
forgetfulness is essential
short memory to move on, no passengers
we cast our kittens to surveying kitchens
rearrange letters on fridgeside magnets
you been to Utah?
no, me neither
nocturnes for seasalt
getting too dense to make any sense of now
buzzard justice just can't seem to quell this
blanket fort fever forever, it seems
dorsal fin swordsmen
darken doorways some mornings
with thorncrown adornments
and coffee eyes for miles
breakwater breakfasts
we'll save the best for last
it's a/not/her sleepless night that I don't regret at all
|
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3. |
Camus
03:42
|
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|
all I got is farmer's logic
this life, pastoral
no ghost tales, or new rec. myths
two steps, your eyes
it's too easy to debunk all the wonders of the watchful
find my eyes are open, only to be shuttered
fenced in with our evening afternoons
no good for no one now
I know it's nothing
new to you, wyoming
guess I mean "why not?"
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4. |
Caffeine in G.
02:52
|
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|
we're driving off of driftwood tees
expensive marbles wreck irons on the beach
slices off the slant coast, hook shots with knuckle spins
aiming for kelp fairways and whalebone pins
you can leave the curses up to us
lifted keys, brush our knees
spilled coffee on concrete cazadors
early morning balcony bench
closed off caffeine galaxies
spiral arms and sunken eyes
w/ a bedsheet balaclava for...
the blind-split sun dot lines
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5. |
Moon Tan
02:51
|
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|
talk about what you know
how 'bout some endless nights and regrets to show
for trying? but let's lose all that for a while
I'm star-crossed canyon corners
I'm scissor-cut northern borders
think I'm talking 'bout takin' myself away from it all for a while
I ain't sorry for nothing
nothing that I can do anything about anyway
it's just another approach that encroaches on everything
breathe in, breathe out
drink lots of water, don't break promises to yourself
try to lose that shifty-eyed stare that crushes me, forever
'Brighten the Corners' has been tarnished and trashed
but friction breeds diamonds again and again
trying to find the part of the pile
that piles up the highest
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6. |
Tacenda
03:18
|
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Vanessa's so settled
all caffeine and care-free honesty
but her pal Patricia prefers paranoid self-importance
over empty nothings, left alone at peace
rather be a bit on edge
than next to echoing endlessness
am I five-years old again?
constantly finding myself
fired up for three too many 1 am
inspiration's: a point blank shotgun blast
Miranda's done with running
done away with all this "I don't know anything"
and her sister Stephanie found a room full of effigies
of herself and she's trying to stamp them out
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