Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 0:53 | ||||
2. |
| 1:53 | ||||
3. |
| 2:46 | ||||
to moonn6pence from shootingstar
Cut it out- your self-inflicted pain is getting too routine the crowds are catching on to the self-inflicted song Well, here we go again the art of acting weak Fall in love to fail to boost your CD sales (And that CD sells- yeah, what a hit) You've got to repeat it you gotta' sink to swim If at fist you don't succeed you gotta recreate your misery 'cause we all know art is hard young artists have gotta starve Try, and fail, and try again the comforts of repetition Keep churning out those hits 'til it's all the same old shit Oh, a second verse! Well, color me fatigued I'm hiding in the leaves in the CD jacket sleeves tired of entertianing some double-dipped meaning a soft serve analogy This drunken angry slur in thirty-one flavors You gotta' sink to swim immerse yourself in rejection regurgitate some sorry tale about a boy who sells his love affairs You gotta' fake the pain you better make it sting you're gonna' break a leg when you get on stage and they scream your name "Oh, Cursive is so cool!" You gotta sink to swim impersonate greater persons 'cause we all know art is hard when we don't know who we see |
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4. |
| 3:03 | ||||
to moonn6pence from shootingstar
awake, alone in a woman's room i hardly know i wake alone pretend that i am finally home the room is littered with the books and notebooks i imagine what they say i...shoe fly don't bother me and i can hardly get myself out of this bed for fear of never lying in this bed again oh christ, i'm not that desperate oh no, oh god, i am how'd i end up here to begin with? i don't know why do i start what i can't finish? oh, please don't barage me with the questions to all those lovely answers my ego's like my stomach it keeps shitting what i feed it but maybe i don't want to finish anything anymore maybe i can wait in bed till she get's home and whispers, you're in my web now i've come to wrap you up tight till it's time to bite down awake alone in a woman's room i hardly know i wake alone and pretend that i am finally home home |
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5. |
| 0:47 | ||||
6. |
| 3:31 | ||||
to moonn6pence from shootingstar
There's a time and a place, this is neither the time nor the place. "Where do I fit in, in this jigsaw of a relationship?!? Why should I play the fall guy to your love? I keep getting snubbed... what dumb luck, what dumb luck." 'So rub it in... in your dumb lyrics. Yeah, that's the time and place to wring out your bullshit. And each album I'll get shit on a little more, 'Who's Tim's latest whore?" Now, that's not fair - no, that's just obscene. I'll stop speaking for you if you stop speaking for me. I'm writing songs to entertian, but these people... they just want pain. They want to hear my deepest sins the songs from the ugly organ. And what comes out is a horrible mess, songs I can't forget what's been said and this guilt I can't shed. It still rings in my ears - Oh, get out the butcher's knife. I've been screaming for years but it gets me nowhere just get out the butcher's knife. That organ's playing my song, but this song's gone on too long. What a day to sever such ugly extremities. "What a lovely day", says the butcher as he raises his arm. |
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7. |
| 4:41 | ||||
He swam steadily for most of the day. Suddenly
he found himself approaching an enormous floating cavern. Could it be an island? Pinocchio looked closed and he saw two huge rows of sharp, yellow teeth and he realized his mistake. So he would sulk and drink and mope and cross his arms and hope to die. And then a fairy came one night to bring this sorry boy to life. She pulled some strings, spun him about, that boy sprang up, and began to shout, "My arms, my legs, my heart, my face, they are alive." And she would cry, "liar, liar, What have I done? You're no lover and I'm no fighter." The story goes on. So he would buy her things and kiss her hair to show he was for real. And she would take those gifts and kisses though just stringing him along. She knew about those wooden boys, it's an empty love to fill the void Pinocchio, oh boy, how your nose has grown So he would cry, "liar, liar, I'll prove it to you" But then it grew. He had grown tired of her so it was true. He left her apartment and he walked all night long, 'til he was stopped by the shore of the ocean. But still he walked on amongst the whales and waves and screamed, "liar, liar" and his wooden body floated away. He just drifted away. And now I wonder how I was made Now I wonder how I was made My arms, my legs, my heart, my face, my name is Driftwood. |
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8. |
| 3:19 | ||||
to moonn6pence from shootingstar
Your gentleman caller well, he's been calling another he loves his forbidden fruit. and it dribbles down his chin he cries, "Baby, I've been drinking with some friends! Now how 'bout a little kiss..." Bad boy! Rub his nose in it! What a mess and he's playing dumb "doo do doo..." "I'm not looking for a lover, all those lovers are liars I'd never lie to you You say you want to get even? Yeah, you want to get your bad man good? Well, are you in the mood? You bad girl! Does it feel good being bad? And getting worse? "Doo do doo..." But in the morning on the sober dawn of Sunday you're not sure what you have done who told you love was fleeting? sometimes men can be so misleading to take what they need from you whatever you need to make you feel like you've been the one behind the wheel the sunrise is just over that hill the worst is over Whatever I said to make you think that love's the religion of the weak this morning we love like weaklings the worst is over. |
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9. |
| 2:59 | ||||
10. |
| 2:52 | ||||
There's a ghost in my bed
she cries in her sleep she says I won't let her leave I lie perfectly still as she stifles her tears I don't want to disturb her 'Let go, let go - please let me be Look at the ghost you've made of me' Dush dropped her starry gown I whispered out "Sweetie, are you here with me?" the mirror chrashed on the dresser and she began to scream "Bloody murderer! Let me rest in peace!" "When I was yours, you fled the scene, now you can't wash your hands of me." Bloody murder You can't here the screams |
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11. |
| 3:25 | ||||
to moonn6pence from shootingstar
In the desert, where the cities are made of gold, there's a girl playing hopscotch with pink ribbon pigtails. And her mom calls out from and apartment balcony, "Come on baby! Your bath is ready! It's almost time for sleep!" And I wonder who's the father... And I wonder what they call her - Sierra Does her mother smoke, or does she jog every morning? Does she drink when she thinks about me? Or doesn't She need to drink...does she have a man who works a nine to five? Does he come home to kiss our young Sierra, tuck her in and say goodnight? (and an extra kiss for mama...) I want that kiss, that kid, that apartment. I'm ready to settle down now, so get that man out of my bed. I want my daughter back now, I want to kiss her, tuck her in and say, 'goodnight, my baby girl, Sierra.' Sierra, Sierra, Sierra, Sierra, I'll never know who you are, and I don't deserve to. My little girl, we would've been so...oh, nevermind. But I'm ready to settle down now- yeah, I'm ready to leave that wrecking ball behind. I could be your carpenter, and you could be my twinkling north star o'er the desert sky. |
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12. |
| 10:04 | ||||