1. |
Pilgrim
02:44
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I had all of my fingers deep inside my breast pocket fishing for something
In my palm I delivered a serpent of a gold locket
A different light was shining off it
I knew he'd want it
Pilgrim, when all your work is done, you'll sit at the cistern with no one to clean your blisters
I felt all of his tears in two rivulets round the lips he pressed deep into the back of my hand
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2. |
Devil All The Time
03:53
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When your shoulder blades seem to lock and change, know not all your aches come with the weather
Swaddled in your shame, pulled off 68, you sit and watch and wait for something better
But everything that's up is coming down at once
Planted in a seat, set in front a feast
Arms kept at my side till it putrefies
Oh how my dreams fall like baby teeth tied to doors thrown by the devil all the time
And it's fire, hellfire
Everything that's up is coming down at once
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3. |
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Baby I've been trying to be cautious, to be kind
But know come that final trumpet I'll be caught up at your side
Now I'm walking backwards with a viper in each hand
Though I couldn't help my screaming, I was quietly entranced
"Mercy" I cried, "Mercy" but no mercy ever came
I am yolked to hell and harvest, I've been pulling plow to rain
Counting on your fingers and my conscience is undone
It's a cricket made of iron, it's the anvil for your tongue
Baby, if you need me, I could be there by tonight
Mesmerized for seven hours by the blinking engine light
Circling round these memories like a gull in static flight
I will follow you forever down the corridors of my mind
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4. |
Carousel
03:08
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Lighting candles in the dark to a saint that prays with his fingers crossed
I sent a letter to my heart. It was out on the town getting violent and sloshed
It would be nice to bathe in some foresight, visit Wyoming, or die in a fistfight
Taking all that you got--give a tooth for a tooth or go shot for shot
Another year to be here waking up at the lake to a feast of snakes
I just wanna be forthright and pull all the insides from all of these hard times
Talking it out
Sitting on the couch
Intertwined like the hills that rise outside of our apartment
Finding the balance of tender and callous
Counting down till our lungs give out screaming "Annie are you okay?"
Eighty times round the sun--make it stop either then or sooner
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5. |
Pit
03:32
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He was born on Black Sunday
Bastard son of a bastard son
He would sit around all day supping on hearsay
Spitting up dust from his mouth
You were waiting on "What May"
Love was pulling your hand back all the way
I was dragging a straight line, caught up on hard times
Staring up out through the forge
We saw the comet's crest from hills like parapets
How he wished he had died when that great hearse of earth inhumed the sky
Now he floats where the wind blows, pulling on windows, needing a place for the night
How we get what was wrought by the time we spent twisting the table cloth
It seems that we are tethered--fettered forever--thrown screaming into the pit
We knew the meaning of the moon splitting Seneca
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