1. |
Man Named Braille
02:28
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I'll tell you a story about a man named Braille
working in factories, in a black city's stale.
He wanders through chapters, like a raptor seeks quail.
But the meek need never mind, if they're ever blind to old Braille.
On the bind, oh, we sign.
On the bind, oh, we sign.
I'll tell you a story, but it sure won't be sweet.
It's thick with yellow lies, and trails of deceit.
On to better pastures, like an ill-minded blinded captive.
When the sweet seek to sever ties, all the better guise is then catalyzed.
On the bind, oh, we sign.
On the bind, oh, we sign.
On.. the bind... oh, we sign.
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2. |
Shiver Honed
02:52
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Shiver honed - when I shake this skin
to the bone - with a snaking grin.
I alone - and I, sing this bit
by the phone - with a sinking lid.
Bend it back - til the core's exposed.
Try to laugh - when your forcefield cracks.
I oppose - but my skin still slips.
I'm alone - until my skin grows thin, by the bone.
Re-ammend - after every split.
Start again - with an empty head.
with the wind - on your soft side spent
idle spins - and a lost side-hip.
Like a link - to the after show,
I just blink - and I have to think:
"I'm exposed." - and I hear them gasp,
as I groan. Think fast--pushed to the brink, I've--
gotta go. - Home.
The river flows - Flies round the bend again,
to send our salts - suspended and dissolved
inside us all - too tender to recall
down wind and wall - like a wrecking crane and ball.
Watch it grow - dividends in kin
I sat alone - while the spin-fins blend
chewed fat to gold. - Transmutations
fly as the crow - alchemystic folded soul.
Shiver honed.
Shiver honed.
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3. |
Little Idle Inkworm
02:22
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Quarter kine corncob, draggin' back my bill-hall
Stealth as a cancer - like, drastic--Rohypnol?
Don't dick. Witness, hypocritic cryptic.
Dragon in a back bend - leaving all the bags behind.
Don't cry, baby. You're a little idle ink worm.
Waiting in the side stage,
driving through a thick storm
blind.
We're in the eyelet - Spinnin' til we're violet.
Telling all the wise kids, hooked up to the crime kit,
We are the eye sore. Always seem to want more.
Always on the upside... lookin' down our nose and sword.
Well don't cry, baby, you're a little idle ink squid
waitin' on divine play, while prying off a thick lid
Hope yet spent, you're expression yet to happen
crying for a new life - wonderin' where you last been hid.
Well don't cry, baby. You're an overflowing ink well
who's begging for a pen quill, some paper, and a candle.
Hope wise spent, an expression of extraction.
Of life, still left in traction, wondering if the bones will knit.
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4. |
Mighty Ho
02:28
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Nervous old Jack's got his toe-taps and kitty cats
Service goals lack--stopping souls trapped.
Morbid off-color souls. Often untold. Into old light
comes wide might, to hold up and stake up control.
Into old wasps - and old notes. Only new was the mold.
Into coldcocks - and deaf tones. Until the river all goes...
Mighty Ho
Overboard, we heave.
The light's a little low.
Mighty Ho
Overboard, we heave.
The night's a little lonely.
We only cry constantly,
so you'll never know.
Mighty Ho
And so we flow. Into open sores - out into the road.
and we grow like an open soul's light, before we go.
And we groan when we fall back on times already known.
So we fold up when we hold up -- or we might, just let it go.
Mighty Ho.
Mighty Ho.
Mighty Ho
Overboard, we heave.
The light's a little low.
Mighty Ho
Of the chords we weave,
the night's a little lonely.
We only cry constantly,
so you'll never know.
Mighty Ho
Overboard, we heave.
The light's a little low.
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5. |
Time Travel
01:56
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All our confessions, born unanswered.
Drowning in substance, and mourning speed.
A sonnet sanctioned, but not un-handspun.
But connotations, still unseen.
The chronograph reads, I must home-run.
The cost in cash, ignored in need.
Iconoclasts can keep their handsome.
I won't rehash such core deceit.
Confidence--like a wave--like a crest--
here, I--like a fly, like a sparrow flying autumn of the hill--
When I rise, I bring my clever puns and deft notes.
But wide go my eyes
when one note becomes within my sight.
When one note becomes within my sight.
When one note becomes within.
Despite all efforts, I'm half-ransomed.
A sloth eccentric storm recedes.
A diamond deck's hands hold half handsome.
Corrected life, but the soul lives on within these lines.
But the soul lives on within.
But the soul lives on within.
Am I connecting right? DO YOU HEAR ME?
Effort of my mind--ebbing time--dyslexic free-form theory.
Modern system of a sight for tired eyes.
I bless what's dealt and test the shelves for stress before I rise
into the sky, for a flight, on the tips of the wings of light.
When we sing, what we bring, is an echo of what we find.
Mix and win - guess the prize. When the signal says occupied,
it's a splint. Some say a knife.
Whatever you have to call it to ease your mind..
Whatever you have to call it to ease your mind...
Whatever you have to call it to ease your mind.
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6. |
Forsythe Two-Step
03:30
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Forth! - Far to travel on the streets of life.
The source star can shine, when we release our pride.
The stirred pot saves those that would have burned and died
on the outer edge--where the elder embers go to fly.
Sore child - alive, but on the brink of sleep.
On a fortnight he dreams, but then amnesia peaks.
And it's a sore fight. Don't ask him how it feels to fly.
'cuz he's a sore sight; learning patience and self-sacrifice.
Scored guides - inscribing all the sacred keys.
carving source skyline starlets of geometry.
Starving for sound, and striving for a deeper life.
Piping source nightly, crowded noise, and a driving light.
Far did north sound when measured with no frame of speed.
It's hard to turn south when you're flying down a sparking stream.
But with hands out, the blind will still be called to dance.
And with palms out, we find freedom in our open stance.
High-fly forget-me-not, be tossed along.
On the ripe bond bent, we find a lost love song.
Wise lights, aloft again, blown soft across.
On the left wing, mended. On the right wing, strong.
Sunlight, for, let-me-not be tossed along
On the night-wind bended, all the ripening rought.
Oh, sunspikes. Unhinged again. Crows loft along.
First the heightening hedges. Now these lightning logs.
Forsythe, your secret life is safe with me.
When the form died, you left behind your legacy.
And when scorned, I reflected on the leaking light.
Capricorn giants - lurking in the midnight tide.
Storm-riding on the current of our ancient feed.
On the stork flies a man dressed in a crown of trees.
And at first-sight, he will rise a flag of golden light.
With a cross-bite. And a twinkle in his rocket pipe.
Far did north sound, when measured with no frame of speed.
But my can't-count, has long since worn it's welcome free.
It's time to tamp down--get ready for the sky to light.
Cracking corn nightly. Trying hard to get the timing right.
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7. |
Be (What Was Her Name?)
04:35
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Hello--I came to see
...what was her name? Who could she be?
It seems a mystery...
I'm caught inside. I'm lost in dreams.
What could the problem be?
The world's open wide. Space is free.
I feel it's dangerously
open wide. Like a violent sea.
I cannot believe
what it is the gave to me
A cup of fantasy
A little taste - so savory
I can't depend on me
I sacrifice my time, and speed
but in the evening breeze...
I find the way to open sea.
Let your time pass by--fireflies to fire.
Take a chance, on a dissident liar's lies.
Alright? We're all members of Club
Mortal Life And History.
Your mortal life is history.
Believe in self, or self-deceive.
Resort to apathy?
It's not what it may seem.
So take your time. You should sleep.
On these dreams you've received
take the time... to learn to breathe.
This pain comes naturally
I'm overcome, and steeped with greed
for all the world to see.
I need a sign. I'll let you lead.
I'm out of lines to feed
this overgrown excuse machine.
'My knees have grown too weak'
does not describe. More like diseased.
I know inside I've waited too long.
Just a dime to get me through one
I waited til my mind was half gone
but will it stop here? Have a hit, son
I have numbed myself to sleep
I am humbled on my knees
Take away this darkness, please
I'm beggin' you, help me, help me
Oh please, help me to see
Oh God, my needs, and my disease...
they're tangled tight--and I can't breathe.
Take the time, take the time to find release.
The final scene.
take a breath, and let things be
just the way you always dreamed.
Separate, and let this be.
I know it's sad to see...
but we don't have to make believe
we're strangers in this dream.
just let it lie, and let it
be
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8. |
Whatever Comes Next
03:27
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Whatever comes next
All I offend, all I accept
whatever suspense comes to wrench upon my neck.
Whatever happens
I won't pretend there's no affect.
Whatever upends all the train cars in my wrecks,
are the same things I accept.
Changes of stations...
Change, is a proverb from my past.
'Insatiations' is a problem-zone, I guess.
And so it onsets...
then it's long-since gone and past.
And so it's nonsensed into something I can relax into
but still can't seem to crack.
I'm not a suspect.
I won't play pin-pricked cul-de-sacs.
I love a project, but...
like instinct, I was born to last.
And so the sunsets...
and so we stay out long, our last.
And so commemorations come to call from past
and sing sweet songs of wrath.
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9. |
Hectic in Fourty-Four
00:44
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10. |
Sure Sight
02:56
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Seconds from the free-fall
I turn to grab the beams
all I want is to be free
but somehow I still can't release.
I fight for sure-sight.
Each night I strive to fly above the streets
while fighting fog and sand and sleet
like dogs out cold, or in the heat.
Insatiation--
a hungered self-fulfilling prophecizing process.
Born to love, but hard to digest.
Mourning doves that died for progress
on-site, in the background,
of a pilot light-a-candle concept.
Long to love, but long for silence.
Should I show, or try to hide this beast
inside of me?
Open ended, honestly.
As so descended, oscillating.
I am but a nervous sleep.
I am but a lost vacation.
So it comes to promise me.
So it comes to soft elation.
Point by point I fall to peace.
Joint by joint, I leave the station.
Seconds from the free-fall
I turn to grab the beams
all I want is to be free
but somehow I still can't release.
I fight for sure-sight.
Each night I strive to fly above the streets
while fighting fog and sand and sleet
like dogs out cold, or in the heat.
Insatiation--
a hungered self-fulfilling prophecizing process.
Born to love, but hard to digest.
Mourning sleep that died for progress
on-site, in the background,
of a pilot light-a-candle concept.
Long to love, but long for silence.
Should I show, or try to hide this beast
inside of me?
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11. |
Fine Mind Weeped
01:29
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Fly for days - throughout the fine blind haze
until I find the craze - that makes my fine mind weep.
Final days - without a ride, nor pay
but I will find a way - to make my line wind deep.
I try to sleep - but all the hype in me
it keeps me up past dreams - it helps me conquer feats.
I would fight to keep - this kind of wide-mind steeped
into a final tea - to keep my eyes wide weeped.
Finally, I found the skylight leap.
letting fine wind cheap amongst the style bleats.
Might to seek among the sideline speak
until I find the key to keep my mind's blind peace.
Fly for days - throughout the fine blind haze
until I find the craze - that makes my fine mind weep.
Final days - without a ride, nor pay
but I will find a way - to make my line wind deep.
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12. |
Cypress
05:16
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Fortunes fading in the sun's light...
freckles grown across my skin...
status quo moves on to hindsight.
I watch the carousel within.
I trapse around so very forthright...
I leap about from limb to limb.
But life revolves around a turbine.
I've got to turn and start again.
Straight from my heart, I leave a whisper.
Those once involved can't listen in.
Speech soft from years of scrapes and blisters...
for only you, I fought the wind.
Still standing strong amongst the ethers,
my pleas for help long gone within.
I seek the seeker wearing sneakers--
the one who sees all that I am.
-
My shores erode under this violence.
It's time to find my pad and pen.
We've gone away to map these islands,
so I may learn to love again.
Don't fear my absence or my silence.
When I am gone, I'm gone within.
Throughout the dark night, I am auburn;
lit by the light of burning sin.
For only you, I seek the Cypress.
The price to pay is on my chin.
I'm restless only in your absence.
For me to stay, I must go in.
I seek to slay the driven dragon.
Or pray he make some sense of this.
We've got to learn to love the balance.
I've got to make my dragons friends.
-
So if it seems I'm kind of quiet...
if my response is short and grim,
realize I'm fighting riots
upon the upper, outter rim.
And I'm seeking out the wisest
of the wise amongst my men,
to keep us all aware of freedom--
our right to stop and start again.
And we can ride with eyes wide open;
and we can glide upon the wind.
The streets are ours to find our hopes in.
We can make our dragons friends.
I will meet you at the surface.
I will greet you face to face.
The ground beneath us both will open,
and we will float up into space.
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13. |
Extraneous
01:47
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At the end of the day, it's all hearsay. So I sway -
and listen to a lesson imprinted in high places -
and glisten with a mission who's essence is quite tasteless -
unpleasant as the effigy essence in my face gets.
So descended am I, I press pause. They take off
the old gauze, and stars... for a moment I am livid.
I recollect the causes and the charges are all fiction.
I speculate the logic and I find I've a blown piston.
I would bend but the tide has risen.
Don't mean to offend. I'm just a prideful prism.
I've got so much to say--can't find words for.
Like billboards in earth's core,
for blind moles--with brail codes and coarse fur.
--I give up.--
Surrender control, to the earthworms, and earslugs.
Let loose all the fear; shift between gears; then climb up.
And wise up.
Check the sky for a pulse--hug.
Set sly loose inside love.
Let life live, let light love.
Let might flood with light,
blood ignite, and come to life.
Give two tugs on the rope,
and get pulled into the sky above, by one love.
I would bend, but tide has risen.
No need to defend, I'm just a prideful prism.
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14. |
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I wave the banner of a broken land.
Who is the father of this rooster dance?
I only stand for what I'm sure I can.
These reprimands, we'll call a second chance.
I wrestled in the dark with shame...
though I never even knew it's name...
it pinned me down and staked it's claim.
It was a crutch, but now I get that much.
Betrayal of a bastard brawl...
I broke apart and fought you all.
I break the cadence as they breach the walls.
Besieged beneath the breeze of fall.
Permeated in the toxic fumes...
We wave white flags over fallen youths.
Look no further for a path to truth.
It was a crutch that kept you out of touch.
and by now I get that much.
We try... and then we always end up stuck...
and out of touch.
Hey kid, you better learn your role.
You better find yourself some self control;
but before you have to pay the toll.
It isn't much. Come on, I'm in a rush.
You've only got yourself to blame.
You're hardly holding in this hold 'em game.
It's time to straighten up and make the grade.
Stay on the dock where there's no boat to rock.
But it was all a bunch of soldier talk
of pride. The summit's up to us to walk
inside... where the costume washes off.
Imbibe... of the wine known to the Gods...
as Atman's song...
I find compliance in my empty shoes.
The scope has widened to a gaping view.
I pray my guidance systems guide me true.
The rain of violence is a startling view.
What's the damage gonna cost in pain?
What ever happened to appreciate?
Who's gonna clean the mess that you create?
It's like you never hear a word I say.
I know you don't mean to betray;
but wise... are the ones who move in faith.
Don't cry... you don't have to be ashamed.
But move in faith.
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15. |
Resident I
04:39
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Searching for signs,
singing songs by the seasides.
On my knees, seeking guides
so seldom testified.
Besieged by my pride,
it's hard to leave well enough right.
My pleas etch the sky,
as my knees pass their prime.
Resident I,
holding cards tight to clavicles.
Impractical grind
seen through tactical sights.
Hesitance primed,
take my time, keep it natural.
There's no where to fly--
home in ten seconds time.
As the beast stirs, the streams pontificate--
thaw and refreeze on iron sides.
And the leeward, a long lost everything,
falls free, crashing through the ice.
As the seas turn in seasoned light
inspiration's design resuscitates
as we breathe in the sea's soft light.
Spin the top. Ride the ride.
I hope your die lie on good sides.
As the candle drips,
time re-rips, then re-aligns.
Taking flame into frame,
I restrain out the bad names.
Taking hand in each scribe,
to let a man testify.
So it stops. So it goes.
Frost on long-lost mementos.
I thaw through the night,
take my time, then take flight.
Abuse, and excuses,
are both rebukes of the same truth.
I tear up my guise
beneath pride's sands I dive
As we free-fall, my pulse calls, quickening.
Like an eagle retrieving his prize.
While the weevil has lost his life today...
for to feed, that's a need and right.
And I plead with such needs each night.
As I seek such a sweet soft lettening.
Still I sprint, when the speed feels right.
...
Up in the crow's nest
it's so hard to focus.
No guard up - no bardic prose
This is all I'll ever know
Love, out of focus,
can make hope feel so hopeless.
Bleached black. Burned hot-white as gold.
Each fact deemed unnatural
Well that's - halitosis.
Back in corners it, unscoped, sits.
The plaque cast to save your soul
but now it's grown out of control.
But that's how it goes.
It was a blast burning,
but the black smoke gets trapped
lonely in the last hole
left to wonder why I'm always last to
come down off the wall
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16. |
Just As Well
02:48
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After this, the words won't come
so there's no small scribbles that I can make
you understand the weight of what is wrong.
Modified bliss, the rainbow fell
Corn-crunch legs, and a blow weight-belt.
Mercury in the face? Does this belong?
Trouble is the tale that the window tells
when the tree-branch breaks or the pavement pelts.
Doubled is the crime when the mind buys into hell.
The elegant trunk of a surrogate tree
holds the weight as I climb through the birds and the bees
But the branch broke from the pine, and how I fell.
Cutting up the chords. So bored indeed.
As the felt frock falls with accord and greed
I hang my head, spine, knees, hips, wings, and self.
Gutting up the floorboards - deep unseen
when I come back up - will it still be me?
If words cannot decree, it's just as well.
It's just as well.
It's just as well.
It's just as well.
It's just as well.
Well...
It's just as well.
It's just as well.
It's just as well.
It's just as well.
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17. |
Yessir
03:00
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18. |
Sassafras
03:07
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If I had my way, we'd be
set free
like the leaves of the sassafras tree.
But I sing just out of key
Believe me.
It's the norm and I naturally
Freeze.
Like a deer.
In a halogen halo.
Oh, believe...
that I can let you go.
As the breeze sweeps by my feet
it blows in soft
I breathe in soul.
It tastes so damn bittersweet,
I get lost.
I lose control.
Without you I grow old.
Without you, I grow cold.
Without you, I grow sour
spending hours on my own.
My repentance and my goals
is it enough to pay the toll?
Hard to tell where time begins
as the ocean's edge unfolds.
My oceans lose control.
My oceans lose control.
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