1. |
Portents
01:59
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Everyone’s writing songs, writing songs about their loved ones (oh)
Everyone’s writing songs, writing songs about their loved ones
Everyone’s hanging on, hanging on to their distractions (oh)
Everyone’s hanging on, hanging on to their attachments
Everyone’s moving on, moving on with their lives now (and)
Everyone’s moving on, moving on with their lives now
but you.
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2. |
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Tongued tied again, you’ve got me in a corner.
With silence a trap, we’re running out of ways to save our pride.
A life of control fears the chaos it knows, that never lingers far behind.
You know you’re own tricks, and now you feel sick and petrified.
PRE-CHORUS
You are unravelling, the ghost you leave behind.
We are unraveling, an end we can’t deny.
Time, is something borrowed.
Black and Blue, and all of its sorrow.
Something new, can still grow from the bottom.
The older I get and the less I can say.
The more I forget and the more that remains.
Hungry again, you’re always so damn hungry.
Consume what you please, in the hope to be free and satisfied.
The difference between mankind and beast is the mystery of our time.
Hard to throw out the bath water now that the children have been baptised.
You are unravelling, the ghost you leave behind.
We are unraveling, an end we can’t deny.
Time, is something borrowed.
Black and Blue, and all of its sorrow.
Something new, can still grow from the bottom.
The older I get and the less I can say.
The more I forget and the more that remains.
We are unraveling, the ghosts we leave behind.
We are unraveling, and I’m still by your side.
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3. |
Sunday Blues
03:32
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Oh the days of rest, I feel the warmth on my skin.
You can always find what you fear, will you let it soak in.
I had a dream, that nothing could touch me.
No one to hurt, no one to be.
It’s the art of hiding truth,
and I don’t mean to open up old wounds.
Always stumbling into Sunday blues,
for the moment I can’t seem to shake this off.
Feeling the knee-jerk regret, every word pregnant with subtext.
Were you surprised how easy it was to loose yourself.
Can stillness last if we can’t reconcile the past.
A trembling knee, arms set too fast.
It’s the art of hiding truth,
and I don’t mean to open up old wounds.
Always stumbling into Sunday blues,
for the moment I can’t seem to shake this off.
When the bridge drowns out the verse,
this subtle posturing brings out the worst,
unvalidated dreams sting like a curse,
For the moment I know I gotta change it all.
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4. |
Rumspringa
02:50
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5. |
Burrows
04:22
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That youthful summer, bountiful plunder of better days.
Old letters from her, long distance lover, boxed away.
Just one of many, childhood memories put on display.
Mixed tape nostalgia, now come’n atcha in every way.
How long, can the past haunt the living?
Till we give up the ghost?
Restore the burrows cause the winter’s coming
and hibernate until the seasons pass.
A life on standby, oh little magpie, with your shiny things.
So much desired, lost in the fire, it burns with regret.
So rough and ready, I miss my twenties, my friends were in bands.
Life’s sharp intrusions, your grand delusions, poor tortured souls.
How long, can the past haunt the living?
Till we give up the ghost?
Restore the burrows cause the winter’s coming
and hibernate until the seasons pass.
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6. |
Seedling
02:26
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In the dirt is still a seedling
In the shit there’s still some meaning
and the dead they don’t stop speaking
if you listen well
In the weeds is still a seedling
among the worms is still some meaning
and the dead they don’t stop teaching
if you listen well
In the cracks is still a seedling
in the ash is still some meaning
and the spirit keeps on singing
if you listen well
[lost & found]
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7. |
Evergreen
03:52
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A pond of glass, would never ask, the wind to hold its tongue
nor kings and tides and I’ll just bide my
timing wise, they say you’ll know,
just schedule in a life eternally unknown.
Born without a clock, no marker no full stop, nothing to remind,
No season of change, most things just stay the same,
maybe we can have it all?
Hard to imagine the gain,
when our choices bring loss either way
I’m losing leaves,
cause I’m weeping as I’m pining and my roots are running deep.
Am I evergreen,
(when) the sky is left wide open, will I be tangled underneath.
A smoldering crowd, signals its claim,
a moral height divides and hides behind, will I deny my
Traditions debt, the patchwork demands,
an ancestral thread awaits your trembling cautious hands.
As I take his place, (there’s) less of my father’s face, on a child I’ve yet
to recognise.
Wading through the grey, will I always feel this way?
till the evening glows its pale goodbye.
Hard to imagine the gain,
when our choices bring loss either way.
I’m losing leaves,
cause I’m weeping as I’m pining and my roots are running deep.
Am I evergreen,
(when) the sky is left wide open, will I be tangled underneath.
I’m losing leaves, I’m evergreen
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8. |
A Touch of Pink
04:18
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Is it naive to reach for something great,
When you’re stuck in heaps of good?
Another decent night slowly soured by,
a brooding, self-effacing mood.
unmet expectations always looming
Sleight of hand is only half the show,
while the more you build, the more that can break.
Frenzied fear following the dog that caught the car,
swallows a loss that’s hard to taste.
One more mistep, painting over history.
you left the morning lights on,
a fading pink, awakes the autumn.
A distant line holds the golden curve
an endless gaze stretched by a senseless urge.
The tallest shadows grieve their mortal bones.
The foolish pause, bask in the afterglow.
What’s left of me now?
when is enough enough
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9. |
Howl
02:19
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We dug the ground our parents stood
with fear in their eyes of what would be
from higher ground the righteous sang
a youthful mount of ambiguity
Curse the hands that draw the lines
run with your pack or pride or wake
silencing the water hole
beneath the fangs lay flocks in wait
Born and raised for boxing day
marched with the band from strength to strength
the everlasting after taste
from the poison in your mother’s teat
Hummed with the noise that crawled between
the dancing lights of glowing screens
moments before you pray for sleep
an anxious mind of what will be
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10. |
Lost & Found
07:08
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The young are in love with the world, till they’re acquainted with life
and it tears them apart.
Old age, the embarrassing friend, who can’t take a hint and never lets up.
Did I refinance my dreams, or invest in something.
Have I weighed myself down, or sowed the perennial seed.
Raised to compete, overcompensating fear.
Intellectualize your continued adolescent years.
How did you think you could build this all with your hands.
Can you let go of the husk you once called a man.
The suffering’s unbearable, while the doldrums sing so sweet.
The young don’t know what they want, all they know is
they want to be young.
They grow to see through it all, pray to a self-conscious void,
speaking in pop-culture tongues.
You untouchable champ, fasted gun in the cynical west.
Thank God we can laugh at the naive who find hope in this mess.
Still finding my place in the world.
I’m just a shadow of doubt with its meaning dried out,
in a life that’s so free and absurd (we love it!)
You hired the guards, its not much but its the prison you’ve got.
With so much to prove, still wearing shades as you crawl in the dark.
Time to commit, a farewell to options missed.
Can I bring a child into a world as cruel as this.
How did you think you could build this all with your hands.
Can you let go of the husk you once called a man.
The suffering’s unbearable, while the doldrums sing so sweet.
Now that I’m older now, I can’t pretend that I, don’t care about…
anything… cause I care about most everything now.
Now that I’m older now, I feel the weight that breaks the bough
The baby falls, am I a man now?
Now that I’m older now, I feel the change, I’m both lost and found,
I feel my age, I’m ready now, oh I’m ready now.
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A. Wesley Chung Glasgow, UK
The music of A. Wesley Chung (The Great Albatross, Boris Smile), Songwriter/musician from Glasgow via California.
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