Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 4:20 | ||||
then it was dusk in Illinois
a small boy, after an afternoon of carting dung hung on a rail fence, a sapped thing weary to crying dark was growing tall he began to hear the pond frogs all calling on his ear they were calling on his ears with what seemed their joy soon the sound was pleasant for a boy listening in the smoky dusk and nightfall of illinois and from the fields two small boys came bearing cornstalk violins so they rubbed the cornstalk bows with resins and the three just sat there scraping of the joy of their joy, they're scraping of the joy it was now fine music the frogs and the boys did in the towering illinois twilight make and into dark in spite a shoulder's ache a boy's hunched body loved out of a stalk the first song of his happiness and the song woke his heart into the darkness and sadness of joy dark was growing tall he began to hear the pond frogs all calling on his ear they were calling on his ear with what seemed their joy |
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2. |
| 3:13 | ||||
We're keeping busy yeah we're bleeding stones
With our machinations and our palindromes Anything but hear a voice Anything but hear a voice Anything but hear a voice That says we're basically alone Says we're basically alone We're keeping busy yeah we're bleeding stones With our machinations and our palindromes Anything but hear a voice That says we're basically alone Says we're basically alone Says we're basically alone We're keeping busy yeah we're bleeding stones With our machinations and our palindromes Anything but hear a voice Anything but hear a voice That says we're basically alone Says we're basically alone Says we're basically alone |
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3. |
| 5:10 | ||||
being alone it can be quite romantic
like Jacques Cousteau underneath the Atlantic a fantastic voyage to parts unknown going to depths where the sun's never shone and I fascinate myself when I'm alone so I go a little overboard but hang on to the hull while I'm airbrushing fantasy art on a life that's really kind of dull oh, I'm in a lull I'm all for moderation but sometimes it seems moderation itself can be a kind of extreme so I joined the congregation I joined the softball team I went in for my confirmation where incense looks like steam I start conjugating proverbs where once there were nouns this whole damn rhyme scheme's starting to get me down Oh, I'm in a lull I'm in a lull being alone it can be quite romantic like jacques cousteau underneath the atlantic a fantastic voyage to parts unknown going to depths where the sun's never shone and I fascinate myself when I'm alone I'm rambling on rather self consciously while I'm stirring these condiments into my tea and I think I'm so lame I bet I think this song's about me don't I don't I don't I? I'm in a lull |
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4. |
| 4:04 | ||||
Now if you think I'm wasting your time again
I'm wasting your time When you pick me up in duty free That's when I thought I'd be the cross in your T Or must see TV Tram pam pam pam, but If you think I'm wasting your time again No, oh, you're wasting mine When you're playing for a prime-time dream The CNB scene Now I'm just a split in your seam the I in your team Oooh please don't get too excited Oooh maybe you're not invited To my action adventure My action adventure dream So when you think you're on the fast track You find it's just a cul-de-sac back In that adult lifestyle community Where all your little boys, your action toys are duty free Oooh please don't get too excited Ooooh maybe you're not invited To my action adventure My action adventure dream So I wonder what you got your persona for Cause there's a 2-for-one down at the corner-store And I wonder could ya pep it up a bit You know throw a fit You go ahead and dance I'll just sit If you think I'm wasting your time again I'm wasting your time again oh, you're wasting mine When you're playing for a prime-time dream The CNB scene Now I'm just a split in your seam the I in your team So I'm looking at the back of my hand again Oh, I'm looking at the back of my hand again, To what end if I can't even find a goddamn pen |
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5. |
| 1:37 | ||||
6. |
| 2:54 | ||||
my skin is
white as parchment drier than a downtown office building where the air is tight there's time spent resting on her bones waiting for the telephone to ring ba-ring ba-ring ba-ring . . . bo-ring bo-ring bo-ring . . . my skin is cold as her toes on the bathroom floor run back to bed and slam the door oh what a lovely sound oh how it shakes the ground oh what a lovely sound oh what a lovely sound oh what a lovely... skin is my it's the only thing that doesn't really fly in my land and love, oh love is my love is it's the only thing that butterfly in Thailand let it be printed on every t-shirt in this land on the finest of cottons and the hippest of brands in bolder letters than the capital I it's the only thing, it's the only thing it's the only lonely, whoa my skin is white as parchment drier than a downtown office building where the air is tight there's time spent waiting for that macrame bird of prey to come down and sing la-ling la-ling la-ling... oh what a lovely sound oh how it shakes the ground oh what a lovely sound oh how it shakes the ground oh what a lovely sound oh what a lovely sound oh how it shakes the ground oh what a lovely sound oh how it shakes the ground oh what a lovely sound oh, oh what a lovely sound |
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7. |
| 6:31 | ||||
quiet
quiet down she said speaking to the back of his head on the edge of her bed I can see your blood flow your cells grow hold still a while don't spill the wine I can see it all from here I can see I can see weather systems of the world and every time you turn the soil another cloud begins to boil some things you say are not for sale I would hold that we're all free agents of a substance or scale hold still a while don't spill the wine I can see it all from here I can see I can see weather systems of the world |
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8. |
| 3:41 | ||||
whenever paul thinks of rain,
swallows fall in a wave and tap on his window with their beaks whenever paul thinks of snow, soft winds blow round his head and his phone rings just once late at night-like a bird calling out, "wake up, paul. don't be scared. don't believe you're all alone." "wake up, paul," whisper clouds rolling by and the seeds falling softly from the branches of the trees. |
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9. |
| 2:38 | ||||