1. |
Dirty Laundry
03:04
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He says it's the beat of a drum but I say that it isn't,
Since it cracks and explodes as it splits into a thousand rhythms,
Just like how all my friends have spread out like the light through a prism.
And hey, I just found out that Keith is into Calvinism.
There's a phone that never rings,
In a pile of dirty laundry,
And a few discarded things,
That cast shadows that will haunt me.
It's strange how your eyes show a frown when your mouth shows a smile.
It's funny the way we retreat to a state of denial.
You know I'll say something surreal yet so awkwardly honest.
You'll laugh, and you'll turn, and you'll act as if you don't really want it.
There's a phone that never rings,
In a pile of dirty laundry,
And a few discarded things,
That cast shadows that will haunt me.
The way the ticks, the tocks,
The falling stocks consume this tiny room.
The daylight calling to its friend,
Impending moon, familiar tune.
He says it's the beat of a drum but I say that it isn't,
Since it cracks and explodes as it splits into a thousand rhythms,
Just like how all my friends have spread out like the light through a prism.
And hey, I just found out that Keith is into Calvinism.
And hey, I just found out that Keith is into Calvinism.
And hey, I just found out that Keith is into Calvinism.
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2. |
After All the Tigers Die
02:28
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This conversation's burning up all of the wires,
And tossing roadblocks I have built into the fire.
You know this isn't me.
You know this isn't me.
You know this isn't me.
I just want some quiet time,
After all of the tigers die,
Because I've seen the hunger in their eyes,
And I'm a little bit afraid to die.
I'll place an asterisk behind some certain phrase,
And I'll return to it some other distant day.
You know this isn't me.
You know this isn't me.
You know this isn't me.
I just want some quiet time, after all of the tigers die,
Because I've seen the hunger in their eyes,
And I'm a little bit afraid to die.
I want to quit like some others did,
and I want to cry when my face is hid.
I want to take back the things I've said,
And I want to quit like so many did.
But you know this isn't me.
You know this isn't me.
You know this isn't me.
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A Sunken Ship Irony Minneapolis, Minnesota
Like an old ghost ship rising from cursed waters, A Sunken Ship Irony emerges once again. We are soaked, old, and bruised, but we're still alive (if you could call this living).
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