1. |
cj somers
04:29
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|
you weren't supposed to know.
my meadow sweetheart is in the ground.
i took my guilt out for a walk
and left it hanging from a tree.
i couldn't help but spit on you
even though you helped me through.
even though you pulled me through.
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2. |
we'd be good men
03:31
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|
if we knew what this sand was worth we'd be kings, we'd be good men
so carve me up and tear her out then stitch me back and breathe life again
so curse us and scorch us, send us back to Your side
I am not a harbinger, I am just a child.
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3. |
||||
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if I have but this to give I pray that it's enough:
a coat of arms etched on my chest, the brazen curse of art.
if you had but this to give I'll know it's 'cause you were
a raped and cold sixteen year old in the back of a chevy van
and when I play I shut if off and want nothing
and when I sing I'm carving to the truth of being.
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4. |
SWAIN
02:59
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smokin' little siren,
indicting all my posturing with that gaze.
you're struggling to put out all the fires
that you spent years creating
but promiscuity won't help you soak them down.
You need to be forsaken to find the warmth.
I'm pinned up on a fence here,
and Lord, I know you're terrified of strings
but I have seen your face when you're sure it's safe
to let go of a pose that
you have been contorted in for years
it hasn't served you well girl,
so stop smiling
I know that you gotta run from all this shit.
I know that you gotta run from SWAIN
I know sometimes you gotta flee to find yourself
but baby, you don't gotta run from me.
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5. |
||||
|
when I woke up to the stifling Fog,
you still could not be solved.
I'd said I wouldn't need you to be
what you could not be to me.
My father built a house
high above the thundering surf
but even this lofty perch can' reveal
what i am to you.
and what a damn shame.
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6. |
thorpe
02:12
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how can I sit in this hole with food still on my table
sheets still on my bed
tires still on my car
my family cradling my head
and dear friends propping me up.
how the fuck did you
turn out to be such a demon?
what history of yours
has made you so Goddamned skittish,
to bed to come back home
just to leave again.
I guess you had to be sure
that I was still under lock and key
and that it was still safe
for you to walk away.
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7. |
Dakota
04:06
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stop killing me with all this medical....
I need pills and trills and drink.
I ain't innocent but I'm not old enough
to feel these pangs of dread.
maybe I'll find a dance in Dakota
where I won't be broken.
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Christopher Arruda Nanaimo, British Columbia
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