1. |
Palisade
03:20
|
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|
I don’t think this is where we end
but I’ve got some things that we must attend to.
I’ve been indiscriminate
but I can’t hide behind accidentals.
Now,
I’ve been saying somethings I don’t like
but what else can I identify with?
I can’t sleep I’m on them vines.
I knew those easy days,
long days,
long aisles in between me.
I’m living on easy line,
blue vine,
then I’m sick, I’m sleeping all the time.
I said I’d be there, so I’ll come & let you in.
O, it’s for you, Leo,
from across the meridian.
When I was over you
my arms were trembling.
I said I’d be there, so I’ll come & let you in.
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2. |
The Metronome
03:20
|
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|
The night my
necklace fell off
you fluttered through my
capillaries like a
stone moth.
I agree with your ideas but not your tactics
so look me in the eye & be practical.
When practically there’s nothing left for me to say or do,
it’s only up to you.
A live ladybug
trapped between my toes:
keep it together man,
we’re all connected now,
stay composed.
I agree with your ideas but not your tactics
so look me in the eye & be practical.
Practically there’s nothing left for me to say or do,
it’s only up to you.
The current picture: the metronome;
I don’t know what this is but it’s not my home.
I thought that we were falling in love.
But we weren’t; only I was.
I agree with your ideas but not your tactics
so look me in the eye & be practical.
When practically there’s nothing left for me to say or do,
it’s only up to you.
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3. |
Mather Knoll
03:50
|
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|
You said wake up
when the curtains are moving out and in.
I said that might not be too far from the truth,
anyways.
I’ll buy you breakfast,
I’ll buy you medicine.
You’re calling me out,
you’re calling me in.
Little thoughts running,
it’s not a problem,
it’ll come back.
I’ll get to hand shaking
when I wanna.
I can’t be alone enough.
I can’t be alone enough.
Walking awful quiet
I could organize my head:
compartmentalizing it,
starting out with our impediments.
I can’t have breakfast without you calling me!
(You’re calling me out, you’re calling me in.)
Little thoughts running,
it’s not a problem,
it’ll come back.
I’ll get to hand shaking
when I wanna.
I can’t be alone enough.
I can’t be alone enough.
Go back to the safe side,
go back to Mather Knoll.
Go back to the safe side,
go back to Mather Knoll.
Go back to the safe side,
go back to Mather Knoll.
Go back to the safe side,
go back to Mather Knoll.
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4. |
Over My Shoulder
04:00
|
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|
Quick shadow dribbling down me:
I'm looking over my shoulder.
Justifying anything's easy,
like, you look when you hear a sound.
Somebody once told me,
“Loosen up your eyes
because it feels nice,”
then no more on that subject.
I blindly led you on & me in the process.
Thick pupil dilating quietly:
I'm looking over my shoulder.
Just if I'm within the interstices,
then I'm looking for when you come ‘round.
Somebody once told me:
“Loosen up your eyes
because it feels nice,”
but then no more on that subject.
I blindly led you on & me in the process.
Don't ask how my day was,
don't ask anything else.
(Where did all the time go? // Where'd you put my suitcase?)
|
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5. |
Peeling Off The Bark
03:58
|
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|
Leaning in a dark room:
a look alike James Wright
(when all my life I’ve been rejecting,
what will I say yes to?).
What did I say yes to?
I’d been cutting glass carefully
& all my time was spent alone;
I didn’t expect you.
What did I say yes to?
What did I say?
Been talking ‘bout you so much
I’m talking you away.
(What did I say yes to?
What did I say?
I’ve been talking about you so much
I’m talking you away.)
Cooking up some mushroom in my kitchen,
tryna tell you about my month;
you’re only half-listening.
I know I never listen;
how can I? Your eyes bloom:
slanted yellow in the blinds
bleeding into a dark room.
So how could I say yes to you?
What should I say?
I’ve been talking ‘bout you so much
Yea, what did I say yes to?
What did I say?
I’ve been thinking ‘bout you so much
I think I’m thinking you away.
I'm opening it up now:
What a plunge! What a lark!
I'm picking all the seeds out,
I'm peeling off the bark.
I'm picking all the seeds out!
I'm breaking it apart.
I'm opening it up now,
I'm peeling off the bark.
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6. |
Morningtime
04:53
|
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|
What if I went down to the pinegrove & didn’t find anything?
What if I went past it, yet nothing in me sang?
Now I’m behind again because my bones won’t align that way.
Some other time, in another life.
Ever since “The Archangel
Michael Killing Satan”
I’ve been tryna capture
both ends of the splinter:
the visible part between my fingernails
& the part still in my finger.
Ever since I can remember,
since the day before they split,
I’ve been tryna capture
some realm I don’t know yet.
You & I, we’re immiscible.
I’ve known it since we laid in the thistles.
& in the moments when I’m difficult
you silence me in my revolt.
Every since “I,”
since the moments when the night limped by,
& all of a sudden it was morningtime.
Morningtime, morningtime.
|
||||
7. |
Recycling
04:35
|
|||
|
Rolling on his back like an ocelot,
crawling on his stomach you make the lids stick together:
nothing really bugs me out,
nothing really bugs me.
Tightening the slack on the millimeter tape,
trudging through your stomach I make the walls split forever:
Nothing really bugs me out,
nothing really bugs me
anymore. I've had enough.
Now we're on the same page.
Now we’re on the same page!
Circling the gap like you don't know what you hold,
drying out my knuckles you tucked it between the fold:
nothing really bugs me out,
nothing really bugs me.
Recycling the cans at the center by the boxcars
we've been carving little symbols in the bark:
nothing really bugs me out,
nothing really bugs me
out.
So let it go:
there's nothing I could tell you
that you don’t already know.
|
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8. |
Sunday
06:11
|
|||
|
I woke up it was Saturday,
grey in the sky,
there’s nothing more to say on that.
I got up got out of my bed,
stretched my arms wide,
it’s time to let this fall from me.
It’s time to let it fall.
I move through & just as soon
my clothes are catching on.
(My eyes closed, lost in my room.)
I move through & just assume
my clothes are catching on thorns,
but I’m bringing them with me,
bringing them with me.
Call me on Sunday.
Call me!
Call me!
Call me on Sunday.
I move through & just as soon
my clothes are catching on.
I’ll come through, I always do.
When I’m moving I just assume
my clothes are catching on thorns,
but I’m bringing them with me,
bringing them with me.
I never kept good touch.
But it’s alright, you never expected much.
|
||||
Pinegrove Montclair, New Jersey
Management:
Tom - tom@castiron-mgmt.com
PR:
US: Chloe Walsh-
chloew@grandstandhq.com
UK:
Jamie Woolgar- jamiewoolgar@roughtraderecords.com, Ben Ayres -benayres@roughtraderecords.com
US booking:
ghorbal@apa-agency.com
International booking (except North & South America): jamesa@freetradeagency.co.uk & ed@freetradeagency.co.uk
... more
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