Today This Year

Lyrics

From Scratch

Fascinating abstractions. The chairs up on the tabletop look like the Garden of Babylon with their columns of magnolias. You call me in the darkest hour after the customers are all gone. You fog the window, and draw an arrow. All the distractions are so far in the distance. All the distractions are so far gone. Still you insist that we start from scratch, and that's it. Fascinating obsessions, you're down in the coat check. Guarding a body of intentions from the circling wolves of portraiture. You call me in the darkest hour after the customers are all gone. You fog the window, and draw an arrow. 

Today This Year

I knocked on the lion's mouth, and through the valley it echoed. In that desert desolation the coffee lasted just until this moment. And thank God. Under the stoic Golden Gate, you met my arrival. Standing in the sunlight your skin was a stained glass window to your soul. Today this year, the summer recovery near. You were so whole when I was all strung out and hung from the clothesline. You were so strong when I was all gone, hung from the clothesline. You rolled up your sleeves and asked for the bags I've been carrying. I said "Thanks for your kindness, but they've kinda become just a part of me and I've got 'em". Under the goose neck's embrace you asked what brings me so far away from home. I said "I've been collecting names, and tracing them from headstones". You were so whole when I was all strung out. I was all strung out. I was all strung out. You were so strong when I was all gone.

Deer Ghost

Bracing for the oncoming storm in a warehouse where nothing stays warm. Plywood on the windows and blankets under the doors. Remnants of a party long gone, just some frozen amber in the lawn. We braved the cold and went outside without our shoes on.  Unsure of what comes next. But I can see it. I can see it. And I know it doesn't exist. Alright. Your pulse was hidden under a sheet, the grapevines clutching to the heat. You said “What if we could only try something?"  So I bit my tongue and tasted copper and you used the blood to practice your penmanship in a broken script. I told you about the deer ghost. It crossed the meadow and leapt over the road. You bowed your head in the candlelight and froze. Unsure of what comes next. I was looking at the ghost at George Washington Post as it was waiting for me to come home. But when the morning comes it's understandable. Just a drawing pinned to the window.

Light Goes Out

Take control, I don't want it anymore. Take me back to the inventor. We’re moving fast like siren blast in the folds of existence. Tell me when the light goes out and I'll swoop down like a hawk. Tell me when the house has been absolved. Tell me when the light goes out, I've got a price on my back now. Tell me when you've burned the evidence. In a fraction of a percent I'm off the grid, independent. Comparing what I've got to the diagram I’d drawn. In the folds of existence. I was practicing mindfulness as I was scrubbing every dish and it isn't what I imagined. Take control, I don’t want it anymore. Take me back to the inventor.

Elements

I only think of you when it's too late, when your hands are dipped in ink. When your hands are dipped in ink. I only think of you when it's too late, when I’ve had all i can take. And I've had all I can take. I waited up all night at the cathedral where wax spills into a lake. Wax spills into a lake. I waited up all night at the cathedral peading for a patron saint to come and take me away. It's a beautiful night to be so uninvited, to be so longing. It's a beautiful night to be up on the rooftop. To be so opened up to the elements. I only think of you when I'm spinning under a tempest tin ceiling. Under a tempest tin ceiling. I only think of you when I'm spinning and I don't know where I've been. And I don't know where I've been. It’s a beautiful night to be so unrequited, to be so longing. It's a beautiful night to be up on the rooftop. To be so opened up to the elements. To the elements. To the elements. To the elements.

Sleepwalking

We talked until exhaustion. We talked until the dawn. I wanted you to stay a little longer but I know you gotta move on. We walked into the garden of the candy coated trees. All I ever wanted was a locket marked with your handwriting. We're gonna go out sleepwalking, gonna go with eyes painted on our eyelids. Gonna go and empty out our pockets, uh huh. We’re gonna go out sleepwalking. We walked into the darkness stealing bread from the back alley. Escaping the rain under that blue black awning when we were down at the Pencil Factory.

Wanderer

Wanderer, oh wanderer. Walking barefoot 'til it hurts. Crossing a frozen bridge to work. Looking for a hearthstone to slowly burn a parable into cinders and driftwood. Wanderer, oh wanderer. Looking for obsessions to endure. Thawing a frostbitten character. Looking for a hearthstone to slowly burn a parable into cinders and driftwood. Your carpet bag holds a makeshift bed, holds a folded map, holds your tickets. Remembers where you've been. Remembers where you've been even when you can't. Wanderer, oh wanderer. Bare mattress on the floor. Won't you come and stay over? Looking for a hearthstone to slowly thaw a heart withdrawn into something you can hold.

Stay Up, Stay Out

Tracing the highway under the haunted hum stripped of my senses and recalling what I've done. Take your time, I'll be here for awhile overcome. Dangling our bare feet from the diving board. Anticipating your last night sunburnt and beautiful. Take your time, I'm counting days and crashing on the floor. Can you stay up, stay out? Until the wallflowers wilt? Stay up, stay out? Balanced on stilts. Can you stay up, stay out? Oh no, I'm so far gone I've reexamined everyone. Embracing all the shattered glass and cracks in the pavement. Take your time, we made it so much further than before.

Call Me Late

Shake me awake from a house that is crumbling. Out into the unrepentant ordinary day that awaits. Faith quietly follows you like the words I spoke on Bird's Eye View. You practice your gifts, between shifts, the furnace burning in your chest. In a century old tenement the spirits haunt every stroke of the pen. You call me late. You call me late. You call me late. I pace the floor 'til the day is done. Where have all the adventurers gone? I guess you and I are the only ones. List of lists, repeating wishes in your head, infinite. Fluorescent fumes, curling lips. I'm desperate for a passing glance. Sorting through my documents to find my worth, there isn't any.

Bottleneck

The bruised sun set on a marionette. The neighbors all gathering. Stars spinning, hanging above. So many memories that we're struggling with. In the blue room, this is a different one than you spent the last couple of months. The mechanical sounds are rainclouds. The clock hands are soaked, and slowing down. When you're not there, you're hyper-aware competing in the World Fair. When you're grounded, not where you wanted. Just a stiff upper lip and a kiss on the forehead. It's everlasting. At the celebration all the years show under the golden eagle lamp glow. The baby Jesus from the bottleneck somehow disappeared from above the kitchen sink. In the blue room, this is a different one than you spent the last couple of months. The mechanical sounds are rainclouds. The clock hands are soaked, and slowing down.