1. |
A Lake Filled With Sand
03:53
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carry my shame fifty pounds pressure
on my eyelids i can't wake
lifeless way to exit from that cage
the cage you made of talk
clean wind holds me
dense fog feeds me
naked cry rolls back
slowly streaming track
preserve and confine
firmly written line
lake you filled with sand
dry land on i stand
burn my name outside
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2. |
Poor Creature
04:26
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my bloody wounds
all gaping wide
a speck of dust
keen and sharp
put in my eye
sight of a mule
poor creature
you made his life too long
i fill space like a shadow on the street
tonight i lay between
between the voice your hands make in the dark
and your looking-glass skin
i wake as i dream
the danger of getting drenched
he's following me
where do i start
if i fall in love
where do i begin
drink it all up
crying forgetfully
drink it all up
winter winds swollen in pain
drink it all up
until i bite sand
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3. |
Frontal
04:28
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i need to become my
unborn baby child
at least to feel pure
and break all the cars
heading against the tide
squirming in your hands
i'm a dying rat snake
but i need to stand still
i'm an old horse in the barn
not all were waving
in the late afternoon
i try not to blink
while i sunk in that flume
to catch how my veins fill
with dense filmy spume
even if i'm mad
it will end soon
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4. |
William Carlos Williams
03:58
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i tried to put
a bird in a cage no
the bird was truth
i tried to put
truth in a cage
o fool that i am
i tried to put
truth in a cage
in red cradle
pillows the heatwaves of unseen love
sit on my teeth
to keep the soul in it’s resolved course
forbidden questions
lay frozen under the snoring trees
and when i had the bird
in the cage
the bird broke my pretty cage
i tried to put truth in a cage
and when the bird was flown
o fool that i am
i tried to put
truth in a cage
o fool that i am
i had nor bird nor cage
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5. |
Ears of Wheat
03:32
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sit on the edge of bed
no one can see you.
defer your presence
white and small
gather fire
lay the cold air in my ears
never too close not to cut off me
i know what i’m doing
on the tillage of anger
i’m just counting my ears of wheat
a hay bale of pain stabbing my lungs
a hay bale of pain squeezing my heart
i know what i'm doing
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6. |
The Semaphore Line
03:47
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so lord i see you wanna something to tell me
something wrong
or just a big decision
anyway
i must go
if i were you
i wouldn’t say a word
i would carry sound
i must go
i know you will always love yourself
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