1. |
Nothing Happens In Vegas
02:37
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9 O'clock at night and your blood is already thin, and you're warm, and you're well, and you must not fall in love. The light is bright so you turn away from it, and your dark is home, it is not fear at all. Promise that you won't fall into it, swear that you aren't there right now. Promise that you won't fall into it, swear that you aren't home. Life in paraphrase. Are you at home? Are you not well to be received? Are you at home? Are you not well? And there's something wrong inside of you. And there's something blank inside of you. At peace with your condition, you're not wrong to want to feel alive.
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2. |
Corky Romano
02:53
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Promise that you won't forget the trembling warmth within these bones. Don't pretend your sleeping in a comfort which you feel is home. Wealth is just a figure made of dollar signs and wasted heart. Worth is something beautiful you feel when you have loved someone. I'll find reason for your absence. How can we hold faith? How can we lose heart? How can we hold faith when parents bury sons and daughters? How can we lose heart when we feel our brothers moving on? Where faith had stood when I was while, there now kneels doubt, such doubt. Still we save heart, such heart
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3. |
Birds
02:17
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Birds gnaw holes in souls. These birds will be meaningful: their wings won't be clipped clawing through woodwork. They pray to be forgotten, forgiven, lost; and be free from your conscious, birds will flock. We mean no more than hopeless ants. We still long for meaning.
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4. |
A.D.I.D.A.G
02:40
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Broken fucking back still bleeding. Severed spine, heart still beating. Beating, stealing life from you while you are sleeping, still you breathe on in vain. "No not today, no not today, this was not your time to go." Windshield, pavement, glass, full body cast. (A test for rigor mortis: youth wasted on the young.) I swear there's substance in your being. There's always comfort in your youth. Windshield, pavement, glass, full body cast.
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5. |
Tel Aviv
03:01
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Children's blood is on your hands. There is a place you can be yourself, amongst yourselves and trust that there is a home for you. There is a home for you. Shocked and bereaved: the thought of fading slowly. I can't conceive of what was in your head. "As we walked down the hallway, hand-in-hand, this is the last place in the world. Hand-in-hand we trusted this, this cannot be a home." And so it goes, this hate is among us and we are all at fate.
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