What Not To Think While In Love (2008)
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Last Easy Day
Every Old Hymn
Upstate, Upstate!
Rest Your Lonesome Cheek
Smoke & Strangers
Things That Get Dark
Raymond Carver Was Never A Friend Of Mine
Fine Young Folk
Figure 8
The Last Patrol
Birds Leave The Bats To Their Own
What We Talk About
Last Easy Day
A secret bird
A red breast flying.
A folded page
A paper plane, message sketched on the wing.
Tell this to her old man: you held his daughter's hand.
A winter barn
You were caught hiding
A wooden hard
The carved out place where you pressed her name in
Tell this to my old man: you held his daughter's hand
Longing to stay
Last easy day
I held a piece of your hair from your cheek
I held my breath upon my turn to speak
I held your pace as you turned 'round and ran
I held your pale, cold hand
Longing to stay
Last easy day
Bird's flown away
Last easy day
A secret bird
A red breast flying
A wooden hard
The carved out place where you pressed her name in
Every Old Hymn
To live by the season's call
To die in you every night, each dawn
You've got the morning under your toes
Soft light, and yawning and scantily clothed
Each of my hairs stand on end for you
Every old hymn and a prayer for you
To touch when the world is cold
To breathe you in, to never grow old
Tuck your fingers under your chin
Open your lips and let me in
Each of my hairs stand on end for you
Every old hymn and prayer for you
So sing for me darling, sing for me
To wake with a tired sigh
The tired sigh is my sigh as I catch your eye
Open your arms and pull me back down
Let lust leave a scar so we're never in doubt
Each of my hairs stand on end for you
Every old hymn and a prayer for you
So sing for me darling, sing for me
Upstate, Upstate!
Well I recall
Though not quite like yesterday
A pile of leave that you were under
You jumped out and yelled my name
Was walking home
You were walking home the same
We cut across a stranger's yard
And we were shot at on the way
We broke in to a house just down my way
That they were building out of wet wood
And of busted window panes
And sweet October!
How we loved to love the strange
How I turned us into pumpkins
How we danced across the stage
It's been ten years my dear, ten years.
Upstate, upstate!
The first snow
And the shoes we used as skates
Our neighbour's friendly driveway
Your brother's cold blue face
The empty city
How the snow melted away
We hung out an attic window
We rang in the New Year late
It's been ten years my dear, ten years.
Upstate, upstate!
On a crowded street
In the heavy rain
How I miss your town
And miss you the same
Button up a coat
To protect against
How I miss you all
Oh upstate, upstate!
Rest Your Lonesome Cheek
A finger is mainly a bone
You rattling your fist at me don't mean nothing much at all
It may seem it's time to come home
But the clocks are fixed for ticking, and I don't feel like it so
Rest your lonesome cheek on my chest
My heart still beats
Stop with worrying
The moon is a cold distant stone
You can howl all you want at it won't do nothing much at all
The birds leave the bats to their own
Well I never was the nesting sort so tonight leave me alone
Rest your lonesome cheek on my chest
My heart still beats
Stop with worrying
Smoke & Strangers
Take a look at this city
You see cars and people
I see smoke and strangers
Sure some strangers are pretty
And they are pleased to meet you
But they sense my strangeness
I look into shop windows
I see dark faces
You see right through to the street
You
You got me
You
You got me beat
We were marching together
Then you kept going
When I stopped to tie my shoe
I am not under the weather
I am a born traveler
This is what born travelers do
I am not letting them catch me
They have not won yet
I've just stopped to rest my feet
You
You got me
You
You got me beat
My old suitcase
Denim jacket
Several letters
Paper package
You
You got me
You
You got me beat
Things That Get Dark
Goddamn pickpocket
Got your hand in my head
Well whatever you wanted
You just should have said
I'm the last little piece of the night
Slipping out the door into the light
You are sunsets and things that get dark
You are me come apart
Pretty chimney sweep
You've coal under your eyes
Both your elbows are scraped
And your hair's full of lies
Let me lend you one piece of advice
I've done things that made my father cry
Hunter searches and hunter will find
You are me in five years time
I should kick you right on down the stairs
Set upon you with two bloody hands
Throw you out just to see where you land
We are not finished yet
Raymond Carver Was Never A Friend Of Mine
It seems I like most of your stuff so I've written a list:
Your hands, and your hair, and your ears - every time that you hear this.
Your strange looking woman, the shoes you wore out, your good jokes, your bad jokes,
every word from your mouth.
Well yes, I've considered it's true;
I would be much better off being you.
It seems I like most of your stuff so I've written a list:
Each city you've been to, and half of the people you've kissed.
I remember the first time that I heard you sing.
Would have turned you right down had I known a thing.
Well yes, I've considered it's true.
I've counted my blessings and counted yours too.
I would be much better off being you.
Fine Young Folk
Young
Young and in a hurry
This could all be fixed by a stiff drink
And so
For an hour, maybe two now
Let us set aside our precious right to think
We are rolling
We are rolling down the windows
We are rolling down the hill
Oh what a slippery slope!
Yes, and here's to anything that may come next.
See the hare outwit the tortoise.
See the fine young folk
Love
Who needs to know what love is
I've been in or out twice, so I don't
Some
Some days we are together
And other days, in all ways, I would prefer to be alone
I am rolling down the windows
I am rolling down the hill
Oh what a slippery slope!
Yes, and here's to anything that may come next
See the hare outwit the tortoise
See the fine young folk
Practically perfect in every way,
I hold the measuring tape to my head and it states:
"No room to be improved"
Young
Young and in a hurry
This could all be fixed by a stuff drink
Figure 8
Trace a figure, trace a figure eight
With my finger on this window pane
And I'm drawing on the interstate
It's been eight years since I saw this place
If I were you I'd know just what to say
As I'm planning words for my apology
I find comfort knowing beer and cigarettes are cheap
You know just what to do if you were me
So be sure to learn your lines
Cause this is not my idea of a very good time
And I stepped out of the bus to see
The sky had turned an ugly shade of green
"Don't cry," I told me "this will set you free."
A lie, but that's the way of things
I think you know the rest
The Last Patrol
Here, now
I am a wrecking ball
I'm punching in for the final call
And your fingers are hooks
And your mouth is a puncture of soft flesh
So stand
Like an old hotel
Oh wretched sweet child
I will hit. You will crumble.
And my fingers are guns
And my tongue is the edge of a razor
And your eyes are brighter than I remember
And your voice left my stomach upended
But I came this way to hurt you
And I won't turn back 'til I have
Open fire!
I am a cannon ball
I am the sound of a sunset
I am the last patrol
And my fingers are stained
With the colour of you as you struggle
And your eyes are brighter than I remember
And your voice left my stomach upended
But I came this way to hurt you
And I won't turn back 'til I have
What We Talk About
From way down here
Well hello
For some it's the morning
For me it's the night
It is called the other side of the world
Where winter stops short of snow
And the girls all hold hands with the other girls
And not just because they are cold
From way down here
Well hello
Were raindrops on roses are followed by floods
The rose was refusing to grow
Be sure my dear
Wear a coat
I went out after a storm without one
And a car splashed all over my clothes
What we talk about when we talk about here
What we laugh about at the end of a year
From way down here
Well hello
Where hot days are hotter than hot likes to be
And longer than long seems to know
With good friends, on our own
There's drinking or thinking, there's thoughts thunk while drunk
And we raise our glass to them both
What we talk about when we talk about here
What we laugh about at the end of a year