1. |
It's Fine
02:31
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I’m glad the colors are fading from the rays of the sun. We tripped up on the cadence of the song that was sung for us. It’s fine. I swear it’s fine. It’s a comfort to find out that everything’s fine. I swung a few blades turning days into dust. I peeled some paint off the wall so I'd know what the wall does. I see I’m not as smart as I once thought I was. I rode some short rides. I drank from shallow cups. All the creases on the t-shirt should team up on the iron. All the corpses of us creatures should extinguish the pyre. All the waste, all the lack of grace, all the empty bottles piling up in this place shouldn’t recede but sight the clean, draw a bead, and fire. I got a feeling that the ceiling can keep getting higher. It’s starting to show that the back of my throat can feel dryer. It's well known that the wondering won’t ever expire. I lingered on the dance floor a little bit longer than required.
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2. |
Squared Moon
03:28
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Where's the medication we should be taking to pull through? Where's the salts that I should start sniffing if I'm the one wishing to come to? Where's the station where the train without the break is, I want to watch some faces while it barrels through. The butterfly might be appealing to the eye but it owes a good amount to its cocoon. Setting up scenes I want to write. Trimming the trees to let in the light. The riverbank keeps protecting the places that the water decides to snake through. We lost our grip on the sail of the ship just when the best winds blew. We've got dreams, we've got rich fantasies, we haven't got an ever-loving clue. We had a sip but like a morphine drip there ain't enough of it coming through. The wax built up at its base holds the candle in its place and so the glow of the wick can ward off the night.
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3. |
Impending Bend
02:13
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Empty sky. Emptier hands. We rely on the dirt while we lie back on the burned land and resign ourselves to wasted water and words. A shattered lens to look through is best to break up the view. By the by, recite and reprogram, form a line, court the curse until the end of this impending bend of our bow back into the earth. Killed some time with tequila and tall cans. Felt sublime but woke up feeling much worse. And when we strive but others pass us by we'll decide to define life by not trying to be first. God damn it's a trip. Find some gold, find some stones to skip. There must be something clogging the lane. There must be someone praying for rain.
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4. |
This Brush
01:27
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This brush paints one color. This brush just paints one color. What's your least favorite color? This brush paints that, no other. It can't draw a straight line. This brush can't draw a straight line. If you need to write an X or a Y, this brush will give you a hard time. This brush will make you gag. This brush will make itself gag. If you need to put a picture to a pad, this brush will taint the whole scene bad. Details disappear with this brush. The image is unclear with this brush. The bristles, and the handle, and that little piece of metal are all inferior on this brush.
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