1. |
|
|||
|
On the straight and narrow, feeling broken and decayed.
Alive with the A'OK, from me to you, from me to you.
I'll inhabit all your troubles, while I drown in your head space,
And with the baby steps you take, you're making waves, you're making waves.
Something tells me there's a light on
In the space between your head,
I would hate to be the martyr,
Sacrificing things we've said,
If the walls are chipped and cracking,
Then, the stage is set for you.
To be stiflingly honest,
Know that change is overdue.
The excerpts that I kept,
In a book under lock-and-key,
Would serve to detail your catastrophes,
When you carom across the street.
I'll be there to scoop you out,
Dress your wounds and clean you up.
We'll curtail the dirty pallet,
But the colors will be bold.
Something tells me there's a light on
In the space between your head,
I would hate to be the martyr,
Sacrificing things we've said,
If the walls are chipped and cracking,
Then, the stage is set for you.
To be stiflingly honest,
Know that change is overdue.
Sleep well.
This lives inside of you.
Sleep well.
Something tells me there's a light on
In the space between your head,
I would hate to be the martyr,
Sacrificing things we've said,
If the walls are chipped and cracking,
Then, the stage is set for you.
To be stiflingly honest,
Know that change is overdue.
|
||||
2. |
Fly Like Don Henley
03:29
|
|
||
|
In keeping faith with my mistakes,
I’d bet you’d manufacture sympathy
Within the barracks of my heart.
So, you can squeeze me ‘til i’m barren,
And I’m a swollen, screaming mess,
As you erase my every barter
For a place to rest my aching head.
I know that simple's just a word
That aches for your attention.
One day strangers, and the next, we’re best of friends
As you siphon my naivete
And pour it all into your dirty hands.
Maybe the medicine that sorts you out
Had sorted you right out,
Of being safe with someone
Closer to your heart than to your bed.
Four A.M to four A.M,
Making awful first impressions of your friends
Watching you squabble over wallpaper and cotton blends.
From Wayne to Strafford, off you went,
With your left and leaving sentiments,
On the platform where I know I touched you last,
Oh, how it goes.
Do you still wear it?
Or does it sit, collecting dust upon a shelf?
A promise you commanded had frayed from end to end.
The dust was settling.
One day strangers, and the next, we’re best of friends
As you siphon my naivete
And pour it all into your dirty hands.
Maybe the medicine that sorts you out
Had sorted you right out,
Of being safe with someone
Closer to your heart than to your bed.
Those train rides home to contemplate,
Which side you took beneath the grates.
The scale with balanced love and your disdain,
You left to operate alone.
In truth, I must admit,
I held on to your legs and tried to swim
Against the rapids in your head,
You let them whisk me away,
Down the river and straight back home.
Down the river and straight back home.
|
||||
3. |
Ximer Eoj (Again.)
03:13
|
|
||
|
I'll address all your confusion
From the cliff I'm standing on,
It seems your broken constitution,
Lay beneath the Pantheon
Of your accomplishments and setbacks,
And all the love you let dissolve,
So, let the anguish drip down from
Those ugly wounds you tore apart.
Is it so wrong
To ask that you just understand
That I have a purpose,
Though it not may not fit with your plans.
Mineola just won't look the same again
As your crocodile tears have been
Embroidered in my head for days on end.
The shades of white,
The stench of sterile words on lazy afternoons.
You had me dancing in my cubicle,
The cork board shook until the pins dislodged,
And all your photographs had slipped onto the floor,
The cadence blended into sirens,
Camouflaged by our front door.
Is it too much
To battle for something you love?
Can I have a purpose
Without your fangs cutting me up?
Mineola just won't look the same again
As your crocodile tears have been
Embroidered in my head for days on end.
Those monday morning appetites
For getting into complicated fights
About my money or my train rides,
I apologize, but not because I didn't try,
More so because you'll never find the time
To keep in balance someone else
Who'll make you glad to be alive.
You'll have your perfect little life.
But if there's something, here, of value
In turning the sky a shade of gray,
I hope that you can give a reference
Before I paddle into the waves,
When did our love become so calloused?
When did we just fall apart?
I'm just a blemish, a laceration
On the surface of your heart.
Mineola just won't look the same again
As your crocodile tears have been
Embroidered in my head for days on end.
|
||||
4. |
Fast As Your Ass
01:06
|
|
||
|
I caught a fifty dollar train,
And you were still an hour late.
It set the tempo for the fall and winter months.
I found myself a bit perplexed,
But, still, I bought into your hex
Of keeping secret from your family and your friends.
If I had known that we would be
This battled, shook with all your grief,
I would have skipped the day we met,
And stayed in bed.
Thank you for teaching me,
How things should never be.
Lopsided and wrought with apathy.
What pity!
I'm fucking done.
|
||||
5. |
Robert Chicken
03:11
|
|
||
|
Your heart is locked in the keystone state,
Beneath the river, shouting tirades from a die-cast safe.
My appendages are far too tired,
To keep with this errant pace.
There you go,
Scabbing up your knees,
And picking fights with all your enemies,
That's just not me.
So, you can find me at the bar
Running my tab two drinks too large,
So, if our night ends in a tussle
My legs won't hold my body up too long.
And I've been holding on,
With every obstacle you've thrown onto
The beaten path I'm on,
I'm staying strong, and as the story goes,
You're nothing better than a footnote,
In a book that's far too old and out of touch.
"Go ahead and make the rounds", you said.
On the surface, you were kicking up the dirt inside my head.
Still, the air was even saltier.
To the water, we absconded in a boat riddled with holes.
There you go,
Scabbing up your knees,
And picking fights with all your enemies,
That's just not me.
So, you can find me at the bar
Running my tab two drinks too large,
So, if our night ends in a tussle
My legs won't hold my body up too long.
And I've been holding on,
With every obstacle you've thrown onto
The beaten path I'm on,
I'm staying strong, and as the story goes,
You're nothing better than a footnote,
In a book that's far too old.
So, I've been holding on,
To every handlebar or flagpole that could keep me on the ground.
And I'm quite sure that as this story goes,
You're the antithesis of perfect,
And it's taken me too long to understand.
|
||||
6. |
|
|||
|
Re-evaluating us. Is that what you call it?
I'd like to think it's abandonment.
But, that's my perrogative.
Time left to heal those scars.
Something opaque and irrelevant.
Given the moments that tore away
From your side like an old cliche.
Call me a head case,
I know that I'm less estranged than you.
In battling happiness,
We split our miseries in two.
Would you? Could you
Subscribe to love someone else?
If you knew, that they, too,
Had different ideas of one's wealth.
If all you ever wanted
Was a pair of working wings,
You should have kept the doldrums,
And stuck it out, in love with me.
We scurried like insects.
And drove the dregs away.
The time we set aside could kill us,
And leave us frantically dismayed.
The depth of your enigmas,
However loose and crude they'd be
Could never shake my inhibitions
Or get the best of me.
Call me a head case,
I know that I'm less estranged than you.
In battling happiness,
We split our miseries in two.
Would you? Could you
Subscribe to love someone else?
If you knew, that they, too,
Had different ideas of one's wealth.
If all you ever wanted
Was a pair of working wings,
You should have kept the doldrums,
And stuck it out, in love with me.
Would you? Could you
Subscribe to love someone else?
If you knew, that they, too,
Had different ideas of one's wealth.
Would you? Could you
Subscribe to love someone else?
If you knew, that they, too,
Had different ideas of one's wealth.
If all you ever needed
Was a pair of working wings,
You should have stuck it out with me.
|
||||
Concrete Houses
If you like Concrete Houses, you may also like:
Where the Heart Is
by Sweet Pill
A confident blend of emo, pop, and hardcore from the rising Philadelphia band, featuring introspective lyrics and churning melodies.
go to album
Beloved punkers PUP close out the year with six scorchers that have riffs, attitude, and hooks, hooks, hooks.
go to album
Rising Philadelphia band balance oversized pop punk hooks with vivid, intimate lyrics, presenting a raw, honest vision of guitar music.
go to album
Echo Dancing
by Alejandro Escovedo
The legendary Alejandro Escovedo returns with another country-rock scorcher.
go to album
Blinded By Oblivion
by Axis: Sova
Axis:Sova mess with the hard rock playbook, creating playful, catchy songs that challenge as much as they rip.
go to album
Nothing not to love about the jangly sounds of the Vovos, who blend catchy melodies with whip smart lyrics.
go to album
Too Prickly For This World
by Wife Patrol
Wife Patrol make instantly catchy alt rock with streaks of punk, new wave, and metal, overlaid with Bangles-esque harmonies.
go to album
