1. |
Fighting (Mia) in June
03:51
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Perhaps,
in the fall,
when we whisper
to this naked shining light
we cast -
and find,
encumbered,
this life we almost passed up -
well we'll ask ourselves alone
if we'd be better,
when we were seventeen,
if we knew we'd hurt the ones we love.
We'd say,
"It's another day we lost".
We'll say,
"Just another wasted day"
and shy away from the pain
that we know we need to care for.
The pain,
that we never knew to look for.
The pain,
of who we might have come from
and where we might be going as
the day
falls gently
through the windows
on our bodies tired fighting by
the door.
And you ask me
if I'm ever getting over
what you said.
well we'll ask ourselves alone
if we'd be better,
even yesterday
if we'd known what we would fight for and
we'll say,
"It's another day we lost".
We'll say,
"Just another wasted day"
and shy away from the pain
that we know we need to care for.
The pain,
that we never knew to look for.
The pain,
of who we might have come from
and where we might be going with
this shame
and burden
that we carry
of everything we'd like to be
by now.
And I've said more
than I ever would
have liked to say by now.
So we ask ourselves alone
if we'd be better
never asking,
knowing there're no answers to our questions
and we'll say,
"It's another day we lost".
We'll say,
"Yet another wasted day"
and shy away from the pain
no -- just pull your body closer to
my pain.
You know just how to temper
the pain.
And though the day is wasted
we know that there's another
on its way.
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2. |
Endless Summers
03:42
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Does it ever call to you
that endless summer
when I was a stranger
that you hated all alone.
Hopeless at your home,
I was forgiven
in the light of the sun.
Pretending I was able
to be strong
like the stranger
you would hold.
I was taken by the
ways you held your own.
I forgot her
in the dark of your room.
But still I can't shake that endless summer.
It was dark when
you came here
to help me forget her
so soon after
she was gone;
that lily in your pond.
Was I forgiven
a moment to soon?
Well it's lost now to writing
that I am
a stranger
by design;
you, a spectre in my mind
who I know could still forgive me.
If you'd answer your phone.
Still, how I wade the endless summer.
I'm a creature of filth,
a man to reckon
what I've done.
But I'm lost
and afraid,
and too deep in your shade
to feel the warmth
in the light of the sun.
A man growing bitter
and aware that I am
a stranger
even to that man you knew.
Hopeless though it's true:
beyond forgiveness
I need to know that you're gone.
But still something haunts my endless summer.
So I lie on the surface,
on the concrete,
I am poolside
in your yard
uninvited with
no regard for what you've asked.
I seek forgiveness
by casting a stone.
Pretending I am able to be strong
like the first time
we were young
and unaware
the only reason
that I'd care
for the future
would get lost to the past.
And all I'd have left are endless summers.
All I have left are endless summers.
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3. |
Ticket to Boston
04:16
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I've got two tickets down to Boston,
iffin you do change your mind
and find
that you could use an old companion;
someone there to waste your time.
But I don't think that I could love you,
like I'd never done before,
or that sword
that hangs so low above you
do we owe it anymore?
I've got two tickets down to Boston,
down from that old Brunswick, Maine.
It's just three hours
sitting in the snowfall.
Wonderin what I'm gonna say
when I'm just one foot below you
but I'm hoggin all the pain.
And it's becoming clear
that I don't know you.
And it's been clear you feel the same.
I've got two tickets down to Boston.
Why don't you just take em both.
I'll take the next train
in the morning
and leave some distance left to go.
But I don't think that I could love you
like I'd never done before,
or that sword
that hangs so low above you.
Do we owe it anymore?
I see you
cold in the wind.
Call my name,
cold in the wind.
Where I've been asleep,
dreaming of movement
and calling for you
cold in the wind.
I've got two tickets down to Boston,
iffin you do change your mind
and find
that you could use an old companion;
someone there to waste your time.
Even if you choose to miss it
there's always some lone stranger there
in whose
face I'll find a way to find you.
Or in the color of their hair
I'll see you
cold in the wind.
Call my name
cold in the wind.
Where I've been asleep
dreaming of movement
and calling for you
cold in the wind...
in the wind.
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