1. |
The Regulator
20:27
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Have you heard?
The scarcity of the soul
Blown fuses
For the regulator
Songs and sounds that soothe the savage soul
The regulator
Have you heard?
The altar boys dusting off the rust
Closer to the sun
For the regulator
Have you heard?
The scarcity of the soul
Blown fuses
The regulator
Calendar boys dusting off the rust
The scarcity of the soul
Blown fuses
For the regulator
Have you heard?
Have you heard?
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2. |
The Longing
07:36
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All that’s left now from before
Is the final twitch and spasm
Like it happened long ago
Distant across the chasm
You think you know where it’s at
The longing is stronger than that
All that’s left is the longing
You felt invincible
Anything was possible
Now all that’s left is the longing
Sleepless for days and days
Decisions and communiques
Ruthless, unsettled
And alone
The harder you try to fix it
Eliminate, deep 6 it
All that’s left is the longing
You think you know where it’s at
The longing is stronger than that
All that’s left is the longing
You felt invincible
Anything was possible
Now all that’s left is the longing.
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3. |
Apropos Of Nothing
09:33
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Ballerina sunset against the sky
Crimson tinted Sunday slide
Underneath the overpass above the drain
That sluices and dithers on override
What were you expecting
What did you recall
Apropos of nothing
Chain reaction before the fall.
Customized detailed decked out and loaded
Subliminal flashing incandescent dream
Read between the lines to pass the time
I’ll be there waiting when your light turns green
You know and I know the bells that toll
Are just Pavlovian entropy
Orientation is so overrated
My sideways, reversible calligraphy
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4. |
Dusting Off The Rust
09:55
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5. |
The Slowest Rendition
10:53
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PART ONE
I can hear those ringing bells again
Carefully I check to see if I’m awake
A formless mass that would not hold its form
A crucial deviation from the norm
To think I once would have welcomed
In delight, this chaos that flickers in the night
And I’m a passive audience at best
Sentient and awake, for that I’m blessed
Words and thoughts that once were my stock in trade
Are strewn about like broken toys, mislaid
Melodies and remedies and kindly advice
I put them where I’ll find them when the time is right
A flash of light illuminates and gives me chills
Maybe I’m just a stand in for some greater ills
Maybe someone’s pulling at my strings
I reach above my head and don’t feel a thing
I claw and thrash and rip and tear the scenery
That only I and nobody else can see.
Mocked by something just beyond my reach
On a silent, barren, darkening empty beach.
They say that newborns experience their scenes
Like psilocybin lysergic psychedelic dreams
So, just like them I’m ready to be born again
Who can say for sure, who can say just when
I close my eyes, I know that I’ll soon sleep
The waking hours and questions slowly seep
Into one another, in my mind they smother
The tenuous reality, sneaking up on me.
I can hear those bells again
PART TWO
A descending ending
An ascending of the saint
I will wrangle and wrestle
Until suddenly it all feels the same
Count the irregular heartbeat
But the same dreams keep hanging on
Call on the zombie damage
But the same dream comes undone
I am the derelict conductor
Of the broken symphony
I’m the amateur director
On a badly lit mystery
Keep moving the pieces
Keep shuffling the deck
Keep singing the chorus
Of the slowest rendition
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