1. |
Columbines
04:01
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Spent three days in your bed
My heart was open
Your legs were spread
I touched your scars
As the sun replaced the stars
Sleeping naked in each other’s arms
I dreamt we ran far away
To a place where no one knew our names
Get some open air
For those flowers in your hair
We tossed our worries to the wind
You say you’re tired of hurting anyway
The past is swallowing your time
Don’t fear
I’ll take you anywhere
Kiss those wrinkles around your eyes.
I still remember what you told me
Before you went away:
“Protect your heart,
Shine a light into the dark
Your tears are bound to end any day”
I don’t see you anymore
My darkness has begun to blur
You were right,
A broken heart just needs some time
Wolves cry out in the dead of night
Let the days run away
And the columbines decay
But your beauty will never fade
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2. |
Grave Feeling (a memoir)
04:41
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When she was young,
she had it all;
now the glory fades
into a sun-soaked sky.
She’s crying out for darkness,
a darkness that covers
the pain of living.
It started out feeling right
but it slowly faded
and no one has an answer for her.
She doesn’t know why
there’s nothing that
numbs the misery
She looks to the sky,
all she sees is the rain
and everyday is the same.
Deep inside, she longs for love
but all she feels is her pain.
Her only friends are a lonely pair:
silence and solitude.
And when past strikes her mind,
there’s no escape,
she feels nothing.
There’s a grave feeling in the air;
A calmness that’s sickening.
There’s no escaping her strife:
no place to run,
no place to hide,
so she prays for death.
She looks to the sky,
all she sees is the rain
and everyday feels grey.
Because a heart can take
only so much hurt
before it plants a razor in her vein.
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3. |
Waiting
03:31
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Do you ever feel you’re waiting for your life to start?
I’ve been waiting so long.
I keep waiting
for something to save me.
Ain’t nothing gonna to save me now.
I keep feeling like there’s no end in sight.
My hope is gone, but not my life.
I’ve pushed through the pain
a thousand times;
I’m not sure I will this time.
Because life is cruel, sick joke
and nobody’s laughing,
nobody at all.
I missed the punchline again tonight.
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4. |
Dawson
03:40
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Did she ever make it out of Dawson?
The place where dreams come to die.
She hates that town,
it’s just the safest place to drown.
Did she make it out of Dawson?
I remember her as a lady:
innocent precious one.
The gallows called,
she sold her love for gold
and now she’s sleeping in the daisies.
Hang your head for that lady.
Junk just seemed like the only choice to make.
She’s got that charm
as she’s tying her main vein off
and she tastes just like a craving.
She bought a ticket on a greyhound.
No one knew where she was bound:
a place up north
where the cold winds feel like home
so her lungs could do some failing
They found her out in a field
feeding flowers with her blood:
they breathe her death,
that sweet smell of success,
a broken heart no longer beating.
Hang your head for that lady.
Her body gave up long before today.
She’s headed now
to a place up in the clouds
where nobody knows what pain is.
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5. |
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There was a time when I needed someone.
Those days hit like machine guns.
I'm doing fine, seeing lots of pretty things,
but it still gets lonely sometimes
And I don't care anymore
Paint my nails, put on makeup and a dress:
do you wanna fuck me or stab me to death?
It takes courage to deal with the stares.
Sometimes I just stay in bed
and that's fine
Because I don't care anymore.
Loving me shouldn't be a chore.
Tired of looking in the mirror
Seeing those eyes I hate so dear
looking back, digging in,
crying out for a friend.
I don't hate this town,
I just hate myself.
What's a little self-abuse?
It's just a little self-abuse.
Right now I just hate myself
I'm having trouble trying to love myself.
When your gender doesn't fit on their shelf,
your body feels home like a jail cell.
Under the full moon, sailing over the sea,
I sit and exist. Here I am,
A tornado tormenting my head:
nothing's wrong, nothing's right;
I'm here then I'm dead. I’m here
and I don't care anymore;
my bones will wash up on the shore.
I don't care anymore
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6. |
A Song For
04:24
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Kye Plant Nova Scotia
Visual artist, facilitator, space-holder, and maker of sounds.
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