1. |
ever ending
02:53
|
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|
take me to the country
fields of winter wheat
and someplace green
and quiet to scream
and the streetlights in this town
are old and all burned out
so sure now that i've
never been here before
but i've always believed in your lord
i have always believed in your
the oldest place we can remember
ever ending in a hazy morning temper
the oldest place we can remember
ever ending in the morning in a hazy temper
there's a fire in the garden
beg your pardon
too much water
never hurt no one before
little flood come through the door
leave an echo where you've been
navigate there from within
the field's on fire now
we're so inspired now
but i've always believed in your lord
i have always believed in your
the oldest place we can remember
ever ending in a hazy morning temper
the oldest place we can remember
ever ending in the morning in a hazy temper
i have always believed in your lord
i have always
i have always
|
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2. |
hunger
03:22
|
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|
you've found a cave with empty space
made it your home and just in case
of any entry by another you have placed
a loaded shotgun at the base
of a large boulder tied a string
from ledge to trigger lit a lantern
took a book out bode your time
until you got just what you wanted
oh, oh, oh
there's a hunger coming up from underground
the sound of thunder is getting quieter now
take the word of god and write it down
to find yourself among the trees
under the ground the soil stills
emaciates the seeds are weak
without the water say the words
make the right sound and then repeat
and go to sleep
oh, oh, oh
there's a hunger coming up from underground
the sound of thunder is getting quieter now
it's hard to go back
after the ground has opened up
you can remember what it was like
but that won't be enough
it's hard to go back
after the ground has opened up
you can remember what it was like
but that will never be enough
|
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3. |
||||
|
the grandmother who i never met
has a new york accent
and a cigarette
she says i've been misbehaving
and i'd better pay up
no negotiating
the grandmother who i never met
has my mother's eyes
and my mother's sense of humor
she tells a joke
cracks a smile
does a line of coke
i don't feel so swell most of the time
i don't know why
i spend my days talking to the dead
that just won't die
hi, how are you
high, how are you
i don't buy the whole ghost thing
i talk to anyone who'll pick up when the phone rings
oh the old men say
what the old men say
and the old men say too much
if we leave right now
we might not end up
so tired and out of touch
i don't feel so swell most of the time
i don't know why
i spend my days talking to the dead
that just won't die
negotiating
with the dead in my living room
they're having a smoke
but soon we'll resume
and i can't keep up
with their demands
ten million dollars
and my black sweat pants
this is increasingly uncomfortable
don't get me wrong
at first the company was wonderful
but after twenty years
the feeling starts to fade
i ask again if they would kindly
go away
|
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4. |
pieces
03:45
|
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|
pull back the curtain to reveal
self doubt that i lack
a semblance of an internal track
loop the tape deck back
scream and shout all night
but keep it quiet
call it a tight-knit fight
give me pieces
to put together
all i want is something
to keep my hands busy
hung from the wall
bled 'til we're dry
but do it slowly
so it feels like a lie
give me pieces
to put together
all i want is something
to keep my hands busy
|
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Miserable Him Jacksonville, Florida
Seinfeldcore, pre-post-folk, punk or something etc., etc., w/e, w/e.
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