Anchors Aweigh

Lyrics

Anchors Aweigh

You've got a penchant for California hangovers. Between the best and what is left. The best and what is left. On the balcony of eternal summer our clothes folded on the hotel bed. In one final rebellion we drove down the winding coast. Knowing we both helped create it. And you'd say "Anchors aweigh!" I found a box of perfect matches, dropped them in my pocket and tore my plane ticket in half. In the same rags with a new commitment and a telescope outstretched. One continent and then the next. So we drove down the winding coast knowing we're in dire straits. And you'd say, "Anchors aweigh!" My dinner guests were running late. The copper watchdog tamed the snakes and the silence was piercing. The Empire State is running through my veins while you're packing up your things and it's gonna hurt when you leave.  So we drove down the winding coast. I know I should be letting go. But it's a birthday party babe, so just one last time won't you come and spin in place? And you'd say "Anchors aweigh!"

Rock Unturned

Burnished black event horizon. We're anticipating all the while. You look at all the houses in the world. Yeah, you look at all the houses in the world. The time starts to ripple and echoes through a worn out hymnal. Everything started out so simple then it spun into Andromeda. Singing arias of your childhood with the fervor of a painted stallion. The time starts to burn and echoes through your working world. Your thoughts are stacked and alphabetical. To count on me is just counting sheep. You're taking roots and then you're history. While we're standing on a rock unturned. And everyone knows we should have learned.

Morning Paper

Endless summer sweat, a hay moon overhead. Collecting a deck of diamonds from the gutter I was thrown in. I clean my cuts and sweep the dust into a spinning consciousness. Kerosene was rising in the cavernous basement. I'm a businessman with my tie slackened and bloodstream boiling. Holding a compass with a hundred hands and peacock feathers recurring. Digging in the sediment with dirt under our nails. Echoes in our eardrums from the belly of a whale. The circuitry surrounding me. You'll be back when you get over all these preoccupations. With a lantern lit and the window cracked that wept white raindrops. You've been sacrificing ambitions for a shot at redemption. For a shot at a transition as the silver steam glistens. We were lion statuettes, crumbled and contemptuous guarding the morning paper.

I Keep the Paintings Covered

You saw me off waving a handkerchief in the air at the dock. You turned to stone with a tear of blood that hit the shore and it rippled. The lines of cars were a funeral procession falling from your arms. And the sun was swallowed. Fireworks exploded and in mid-air froze. So I stare at the ceiling, the toxicity peaks. I keep the paintings covered, their faces are insufferable. I keep letters in envelopes, a graveyard full of ghosts. The fever boiled and was broken. The grandfather clock that used to watch over us had a mighty beating heart that resonated through our own vessels. You turned to stone like that lighthouse we once called our own. And no matter what great return, I could never repay the restitution.

Time Capsule

Into a time capsule goes a bygone era. Into a time capsule goes the broken eggshells. I'm caught in the shrill search beam of a helicopter. Blades furiously spinning on the streets we walked so comfortably. Into a time capsule goes a stamp collection. Into a time capsule goes the television. Countless hours conceived, cathode rays emitting. Intoxicate, disassociate and wait up for me. Enough! The fireflies light up inside a crystal ball. Enough! Buried and forgotten, our lucky charms star-crossed and swept under the rug. Into a time capsule goes our jealousy. Into a time capsule goes all the receipts. When the river drinks the color spectrum the rust and oil form a meniscus and it's possible to walk on the water.