1. |
Anchor
02:54
|
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|
It was a dream. A dream to have met you.
Thanks for the kind words that you said.
But you must be busier than you've shown me
Outside of this gas station.
I openly admit I'm a fan just like
Everyone that I know.
Like taking strangers' contact information
I can patronize them all,
Oh I'm so sorry Greg,
But I can't be your new man.
I got my own bridge I gotta cross
And I'm going alone.
Anchors are essential for holding
firmly to the ground.
They're also just as good at holding you back
Where you won't be found.
I got a crisp, brand new twenty dollar bill
You can have if you pull me ashore.
But if the current proves too strong
I'm floating out and I'm buying a new guitar.
Oh I'm so sorry Greg,
But I can't be your new man.
I got my own bridge I gotta cross
And I'm going alone.
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2. |
Casino Life
03:03
|
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|
Face down
You've got another one
Safe
Secured
En garde
You've got your armor on
To brace for words
An uphill battle that will
Leave us empty-handed
Still we roll the dice
And take our empty chances
Wheel spin
You drop the ball
Call your number and shade
Marring marble's
Got the weight
Invalidate all your plays
The deck is stacked
Your sleeves are checked
With steel precision
The world's controlled by
Paper slips
They used your chips
to print them
Can the dealer be played?
Try your best
But rank suggests that
Every rule can be changed
No room to run away
Game tables
Are chained
To your legs
And hands
Are always seen
All their things
Are made from your dreams
Legs and hands
Are always seen
All their things
Are made from your dreams
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3. |
The Air
02:41
|
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|
Like a gold bar at
The bottom of the ocean
I fight my every notion
To be a value they've ascribed
Vicariously.
They feel heat
When I am complete.
Thrown into blue
Flashing T.V. screens.
Brightly colored
And angry as true paranoia.
So many great ideas
Forgotten to the aether.
Such a small, unknowing teacher.
Like an unemployed creative
Confiding
In invisible directors.
These hands can only follow directions.
These words will only be delegated.
These waves will only be created
Out of nothing more than toying with the air.
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4. |
Send Us Back
04:01
|
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|
It's hard to imagine a better place to be
When you all come from everywhere else.
A small congregation of concentrated hate
Representatives of the whole world itself.
It's hard to admit defeat up against
The wolves dressed all up in your wool.
So, the meek will fight its name,
Stare dead in the face
The ease of the low level pull.
Boards that we've torn out from confident houses
Can still prove to be purposeful.
Not for vessels aimed away from the problems we face
Nor toward where they'd wish all their dissenters would go.
We'll dig out the trench,
Build a home for our hope,
And hold ourselves accountable.
But we'll all need some help,
For when my hope does run out
Please permit me these words I borrow:
"I know this world is good enough
Because it has to be."
It's the only one familiar to me.
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