1. |
Orbweaver
02:49
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There are magpies on the silo/ And children Running past the bard/ Orbweaver in the willow spins another yarn/ I put flowers on the windowsill/ To whither and dry/ The teenagers outside the venue/ Are busy getting high/ Daffodils on the peat of the burial mound/ In a moment of convalescence/ Clover flowers turn brown/
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2. |
3 Haikus
02:56
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I'm heading homeward
Sunset; a spell of pink sky
Be-spells my tired eyes
It looks like fire
I muse, but I don't know why
Watching the day die
I'm struck by movement
A 'V' of Migrating geese
Against a pink sky
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3. |
Kick Up The Dust
04:06
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And you forgot I was a bird/ And you forgot I was a boy/ And I fell out of your favour/ And I fell out of your employ/ And when I kick up a tantrum, I know I'll kick up the dust/ And wide eyed I make faces/ And wide eyed I make due/ And wide eyed I make different shapes out of twigs, canvas, and glue/ And when the band disbanded, Alexander played with The Leaves/ I grew a little hard-handed/ Now I speak for the trees/ And wide eyes I keep rhythm/ And wide eyed I keep still/ Wide eyed I tug the covers to drive away the chill/
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4. |
Goddamn
04:39
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I felt sweat on my eye lashes/ On the eve of St. Agnes/ I took up the visage of a lamb/ All for a chance at the diadem/ Goddamn! Goddamn. . ./ I woke to lightning taking form/ The light was tucked 'round the edge of the storm/ I took up the visage of a ram/ I heard a fist on the table slam/ I was as still as a figurine/ I wore a necklace of baleen/ I am still waiting for my chance to scram/ I know that you are that I am/
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5. |
Night Jacket
04:42
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Yes, I'm a green horse/ In the boreal I'm creeping/ Trying hard to keep it down/ While you are sleeping/ I'll stitch a gold lining in your night jacket and play you soft piano tunes/ As we scurry into a darker desert/ Climbing higher and higher on the dunes/ Yes, I'm a fey horse/ Oh, I know, how pagan of me/ Bucking against a memory/ Gracing a breath of Eurydice/ I could be a sea horse/ Or a wheel upon a wagon/ Spinning and spinning and gaining ground/ In flight from the komodo dragon
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6. |
Fog Horn
02:30
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I spurn that I wait for summer to come/ This foghorn calls out to the sea/ I'll get the nerve to throw myself in/ Eventually/ 'Cause I wait and I wait for summer to come/ So I can hold my peace/ And battle the ebb/ What a tangle web/ I set out to weave/ I spurn that I wait for summer to come/ As I turn my back on the cold breeze/ With smoke signal breath I burrow my arms right into my sleeves/ 'Cause I wait and I wait for summer to come/ These cold bones/ they rattle like keys/ I wish to open my mouth and swallow the sun/ To rid me of the sneeze/
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7. |
Oh Desire
04:54
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I'm singing like an animal with a sideways 8 above my head/ You're walking naked on beach/ I guess I'd rather stay in bed/ Oh desire. . . desire got me on fire/ You're like a hospital lobby: Sterile—spick and span/ You get it when you want it/ I guess I get it when I can/ And the wreckers on your moors know better than to plunder your shores/ You throw butterfly knifes from your eyes/ As the village runs for their lives.
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8. |
Fawn
04:47
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And it was late in the year when the sow and the steer were meandering austere in the pasture/ And I was certain for sure that the goshawks were stalking rabbits to devour post-capture/ When the sky grew dim, all uncovered and skim, my bones chilled down to the marrow/ In the dregs of the day, I had little to say/ Seated, trying to decipher the tarot/ And I'll be a fawn seated on the lawn, gaping up at the dwindling sky/ For The Popess attests to the solemn caress of the frigid of the fall turning winter/ While a layman, of sorts, casts Idle retort, I was no trunk nor a branch, but a splinter/ And I'll be the blister and the folk-anthem whistler while you remember your Alamo/ My burns dressed in gauze, I'll hold my applause before the tide falls into the undertow/ For the soothsayer said, in a tone baring dread "Borrowed time is salted earth" I let evening arrive, listless, though alive; my heart feeling solemn, my face showing mirth/ And it was late in the year when the sow and the steer were meandering austere in the pasture/ And I was certain for sure that the goshawks were staking rabbits to devour
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9. |
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Will you stop the spool from unwinding and weave me into the braid? From the courtyard birds are ascending/ I'm pretending I'm not afraid/ Somewhere there's a braid hanging from a window you can climb/ And I'm sitting by the window biding time. . ./Will you lay claim to my collar? I'll fold like a cheap suit/ I'm growing in cynical orchards and baring callous fruit/ I go sour grapes/ I go stained glass/ I'd go Waltzing Matilda If I could get off my ass/
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10. |
Danny Boy
03:59
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Oh Danny boy/ The pipes, the pipes are calling/ From glen to glen/ And down the mountain side/ The summer's gone and all the roses falling/ It's you, it's go must go and I must bide/ But come ye back when summer's in the meadow/ Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow/ Tis I'll be here in sunshine and in shadow/ Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so/ But when ye come and all the flowers dying/ And I'm as dead as dead I well may be/ Go out and find the place where I am lying/ And kneel and say and ave there for me/ And I will hear though soft you tread above me/ And my grave will warm and sweater be/ For you will bend and tell me that you love me/ And I shall sleep in peace till you come to me/
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