1. |
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when the calls came in you heard them ring a hundred times
'cause you knew the game of gloom and doom would do
she climbed the stairs
she saw you there
went off to separate rooms
you'd missed that brief moment
that rush,
to the hall,
to the world
that guy she met was not a threat but a culprit
he'd arrived at throwing himself from a bully pulpit
you call the stranger who considers himself a business
but you don't even notice all the kids are all playing with matches
you arrive to find an empty but bustling station
looking up you think of rewards for your extensive patience
you run into that girl that you met that one time out in Morristown
but all she remembers is telling you to put her drink down
No you won't understand the half glamourous somethings in brooklyn
how they seem insecure but at least they're rich, broken, and open
you might struggle for months and then not risk enough as you sit there
thinking what the fuck happened and telling yourself that you're sincere
oh who can you call?
when you were out riding somewhere?
but nobody knew where the fuck you were
and you couldn't make anyone listen
you read from a library book
and the tears on your face aren't from laughter
but from the instant you lost your faith in the kitchen
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2. |
Twin Chimney
03:34
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stolen reprimands
don't call
you do it to return there
what was it the fall?
grooves, wood
there beneath the floor
you took another tone and rose above it all
man you never saw it come
you drove where she was from
but then were told to go
moving flowers with the moon
a mansion full of rooms cast shadows on the lawn
twin chimney is such a place
a giddy concrete face lurks quiet for the dawn
seek the time to be alone
no dusty leather tomes
a fire on the bed
sit down staring into space
and central pride of place the closest thing to love
not right
mornings on the wane
with friday evening tamed with visions from a cup
we will borrow trouble soon
extended afternoons
who rises with the sun?
things not meant for everyday
included to acquire more space to keep at bay
ten bricks sitting on the grass
triangle shards of glass
which gilded age has passed?
twin chimney is not a place
at least not anymore
that kind of thing can't last
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3. |
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when the block streams out falling under waters
reading secret scripts and breaking down your daughters
such a lonely place then for catching strangers
these are fleeting glimpses of unforgotten dangers
you never broke my heart
that was something that you need to tell yourself
sometimes that's enough
I always knew that somehow you'd seek
the kind of solitude that feels like forgiveness
but it's never enough
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