1. |
Drop In Any Storm
03:39
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Trapdoor language of sobriety
nod your head and speak politely
and even if you don't feel
too very real
there's fires to be burnt
and eyelashes that return
the little bit of feedback hanging in the reverb
And stuck home on the weekend betrayed by your invisible friends
with a fridge that keeps your beer warm
and eyes of horizons of cheap sunsets
and so you try not to ever forget
the sweet kisses that live between the pain
of living in vain
when you're not a drop in any storm
Despondent cough of a bare wall
is the first drop of a leaf in fall
but Spring's climbing from it's grave
you're happy, but a little afraid
as time drowns thoughts in the swimming pool
in a room of walls it's easy to lose your cool
but keep the cold washcloth on your head
And stuck home on the weekend betrayed by your invisible friends
with a fridge that keeps your beer warm
and eyes of horizons of cheap sunsets
and so you try not to ever forget
the sweet kisses that live between the pain
of living in vain
when you're not a drop in any storm
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2. |
Reaction
04:10
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There's a reaction when you talk to me
I've told you all I've abandoned, and still you just leave
Through a door where no beauty can be seen
For a well crafted life working inside the machine
And it all comes apart all the stitches and the cloth
All the shattered tiny voices we learn to blow off
It all comes apart we all learn to stay in line
Waiting our turns and staring out into the pines
There's a reaction to your tempting stare
That breaks through walls within me, but I know there's nothing there
To make you reconsider the day and position we find ourselves in
Once you've seen the dust of a moth, it'll never fly again
And it all comes apart all the stitches and the cloth
All the shattered tiny voices we learn to blow off
It all comes apart we all learn to stay in line
Waiting our turns and staring out into the pines
There's a reaction when we touch skin
It's chemical and noxious, and neither of us wins
Our chains too short to reach, our hands too callus to heal
Still we're trying to love something that's already been killed
And it all comes apart all the stitches and the cloth
All the shattered tiny voices we learn to blow off
It all comes apart we all learn to stay in line
Waiting our turns and staring out into the pines
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3. |
Low In The Evening
01:08
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Til Willis Lawrence, Kansas
Til Willis, born in the heat of 1980, has been making music for a long time. Currently, when not performing solo, he makes noise with Erratic Cowboy. The style of music is lyric driven rock, that draws influence from many sources. Some have described it as Tin-Roof-Rain-Water-Bop. In his years of touring the country, Til has had the pleasure to perform with such notable talents as Pete Seeger.... ... more
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