1. |
New Sympathies
04:04
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New Sympathies
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I have to confess,
I’ve made my bed
Now I’ll sleep in it, alone.
I'm going to have bad dreams...
Captains of Industry,
It’s time to sail the Seven Seas.
You should think twice…
Sweet, sweet, sweet Kerosene,
A lonely light walks with me
To make a mess and have a blast.
Well, I have to confess:
I made my bed,
Now I’ll sleep in it,alone,
But I’ll have bad dreams
Like the bottom of the sea
With the waves crashing down,
The sight and sound of a sinking ship and what goes with it:
A shudder from above, a groan and a creak,
The crackle and streak of a spark set free
And it’s learning to sing
Unholy sounds
Like God’s open mouth.
The words come in waves just to drown out all the pleas of the damned
Who hear what it says…
And it says, “Don’t breathe.”
There’s a woman in the sails hanging over the rails,
A kid with a kite who just watched the string fail,
Three guys in a raft and it’s upside down
(They think they rise when they sink and the sky’s gone out)
Well, there’s ice in the drink
And the ship’s gone to hell.
The passengers talk
And they’re starting to tell
Of a Captain on deck
And he’s pacing around
And he’s waving his arms
Trying to comfort the crowd
He says,
“Please, Please, Please,
One at a time.
Please, Please, Please,
Stay Calm…
We’re all going to die.”
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2. |
your love is a pawnshop
03:37
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your love is a pawnshop
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Your love is a pawnshop
And everything in it is used:
A faded magazine rack, a worn pair of shoes,
A leather valise,
A bag of old, beaten blues
And that dress...
I bet it looks nice on you.
Let's go for a dance in the back.
Let's light those kerosene rags
And we'll spin 'round & 'round the fire
Like the jukebox is playing our song.
Like it plays anything at all...
But the worn-out, second-hand men
Who walk into our lives to get turned out again
'Cause Jesus won't show with a redemption ticket
For any second-hand prayers when
Your love is a pawnshop.
Your love is a pawnshop
But everything in it is mine
I just traded it in to try to buy some time
For us to figure it out
--I know, it sounds wise--
But tell me now,
Is it gonna be alright?
Come on, come take me by the hand
And look me in the eye, make me understand,
'Cause I'll spin 'round & 'round the shop,
Trying to hide my doubt
When I see-- If I see anything at all
But the worn-out, second hand women
I let into my life and let them out again
'Cause Jesus don't show up
With a six-pack and friends
For any second-hand liar who sings,
"your love is a pawnshop"
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3. |
Abandoned Drive-In
01:11
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4. |
Climax
03:56
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5. |
Going to Hell
05:28
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Going to Hell
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Warn your friends: I'm no good.
Turn away if I start to move my lips,
Don't let the words come out.
Warn your sister not to smoke
Or to laugh when she lights her cigarettes.
Don't let the smoke get in.
She goes back & forth
Across the street, buys a match,
Just to throw it out and watch what burns.
Fuck your friends, they're no good,
They're the ones who start to turn away
At the first sign of trouble.
I ask myself, everyday, like a prayer:
If we're not going anywhere,
Then how come I feel like I'm going to Hell?
We go back & forth across the floor.
We broke a lamp and opened up the door
When we fell inside.
Tell yourself you were right,
Justified in every single way,
So you can sleep at night.
I ask myself, everyday, like a prayer:
If there's no God & Lucifer,
Then how come I feel like I'm going to Hell
When I go back & forth across the states?
You break a stick, just to throw it out
And watch what burns
As you go back & forth around the kit,
Sometimes it sounds like rocks falling down the stairs
And I know we both failed.
This song's called "Going to Hell"
And it's going to shit.
Why would pull from my life just to pen a confessional?
Should I have held back? Or fictionalized?
Used artful compression? Leaned hard on metaphor?
Subtle or extended to flirt with the Absurd?
Let's pretend all our friends are together,
Raising a glass in our names
And nobody got hurt
In the making of "Going to Hell."
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6. |
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My Favorite Blue Raincoat
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L. Cohen-
It's Four in the morning, end of December. I'm writing to tell you I'm better.
New York is cold. Do you like where you're living? There's music on Clinton St. all through the evening. Did you hear I'm building my little house in the desert? I'm living for nothing now. This is my record.
Well, when Jane came by with a lock of my hair, did she tell you I gave it to her the night when I tried to get clear? ...I never got clear.
The last time I saw you, I felt so much older. My favorite blue raincoat, you ripped at the shoulder. I'd been to the station to meet every train but I came back without Lili Marlene and I offered your woman a piece of my life but when she returned she was nobody's wife.
Well, you see me there with a rose in my teeth? One more thin gypsy thief. If Jane is asleep, don't send my regards...
Well what can I tell you, my brother, my lover? I guess: that I miss you... and do you forgive me? I stood in your way.
If I ever come by for Jane or for you, I hope that you're sleeping and your woman's untrue. So don't thank me for the trouble that I took from her eyes. Did you think it was there for good? Is that why you never tried?
Sincerely,
G.W. Rickly
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7. |
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