1. |
The Good
03:42
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It felt good!
And, though the risk was great,
We blew the dust off older habits
Refining them to serve our purpose
Grinning as you spilled the pepper-pot
Unlocking closets full of fractured bones picked clean by mice
But, for the jokes
We felt it “quite jejune!”
The nature of the circumstances
Warranted a change in tone to
Soften blows struck from a throat so dry
Assaulting horses long since dead with whips long since untrue
*Nothing felt so right
With nothing gained from all that you had to say
I've got nothing more to offer from this mouth
That once you kissed so hard
Hard enough to ward off any thoughts I had
That you were only in this as a dalliance
But all in all, it felt good!
It felt good.
Wading through the rage
And holding fast to ancient bygones
Ringing ears for miles around with
Fodder for the masses and archives
To be poured over by minds much greater than mine
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2. |
This Charming Stain
04:13
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This charming man is running out of lines
Designed to stay in your good-books
Poisoning the ink-well, plagiarized with style and purpose
With hands reaching for stones
This loaded word must find a mark
Your “unwilling” warrior must take up its arms and fall in
While screaming “Out, damned spot!” you failed to notice
All the other bloody stains
Playing out such scenes in preparation for a reign that never comes
Pricking sore thumbs
Signaling wickedness afoot!
The knowledge that nothing can completely clean your hands fills your eyes with terror
Ground down to words
Found more than what I thought I lost
Deserving of knowledge once reserved for the enlightened and trigger happy fools
Cantankerous and likely to fall for
Another falsely planted flag
I’d appreciate it if you could see your way out of me
And leave me in the vanguard
This charming stain is faded now
That everyone’s in on the joke only, the irony’s totally lost on them all
Ground down to words
Found more than what I thought I lost
Deserving of knowledge once reserved for the enlightened and foolish
Pricking sore thumbs
Breath held to meet the war to come
The courage of my convictions is scaring me
Won’t let it breath again
Won’t let my boots stay un-marched-in
And keep the rose all to myself
While in the throes
Of your hegemony
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3. |
We're No Strangers
04:55
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Mouths cross to wander alleyways and back roads barely lit
Digging potholes with a fib or two to seal the deal
This morning turned into next year
The ghost you wanted was mine
So, let's get on with the execution and the wake to follow
Callously eulogizing with a grin
Confounded, shaking, and bemused
But fighting, nonetheless
With a frameless photo with some writing on the back
Addressed to older eyes than mine
Faulting my tower for being "too tall," then holding my hand
As it fell out of your good grace
Redacting all the names I thought you might know!
Thinking we held our gaze "offset from the normal" form
Encrusting crowns with thoughts unsold
With fictions greater than the sum of the parts we stole
Worth nothing more than what we brought
Burned down the foundry in Act I
Never looking back
Never, really, moving forward only pointing where
The lost horizon used to be
Repairing crooked toes to take me where I need to go
Away from the house with laughing windows
Guaranteed to put me in my place!
Thinking we held our gaze.....
Acting cheap theatre in my room
Fighting critics' blows
Reading the "cruel story of youth," down the hall from "old."
Ended up dining on our peers
The ghost you needed was mine
So let's get on with the execution and the wake to follow
Eulogizing, climbing out the window
Thinking we held our gaze....
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4. |
Fine
06:28
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Not to put too fine a point on it
But that plank in your eye just broke my nose
Scattering a few more splinters
Pluck them out
Hoping to drive your point home
Red in your brown eyes
We’ll see just where your finger lands
Red in your brown eyes
Left without a leg on which to stand
Choose a less shameful past to present
One for which to whet your appetite
Tailored to fit snuggly while
Retaining all the
Style for which you are well known
Red in your brown eyes
We’ll see just where your finger lands
Red in your brown eyes
Left without a leg on which to stand
_
And the diamond dogs you penned with me are looking rather dour
Nothing but the finest clothes for your finest hour
It’s not enough
To cut corners with your lust
But hold that thought until we get back home
And the lightness of your face
Creates meaning in my space
For all the portent
Planted in the loam
_
With a liquor soaked avidity
You’ll use me to your disadvantage
At the business end of truncheons you’ll
bring to heal all the ardor in my face
Red in your brown eyes
We’ll see just where your finger lands
Red in your brown eyes
Left without a leg on which to stand
(you’re unable to catch every little meaning holding grudges
With both hands
Like the ones held over me
It’s seeping through your fingers
And into my hands)
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The First Part San Angelo, Texas
Matthew Johnston: vocals/guitar, Martin Delgado: bass, Drew Fish: guitar/vocals, Matt Taylor: drums
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