1. |
Oil and River
02:46
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we go together like oil and river,
like drought and timber,
like orange and blue.
you’ll be the coat and ill be the shiver—
you wont let me wear you.
we go together like electric and rubber.
i’m not good with thunder
but the thunderstorms grew.
you sent them east
toward my fear and me
and yet i drive through it all
to be closer to you.
yeah, i'd power through it all,
all the things we cannot be
if i could see your eyes in person
and you could sit and comfort me.
but we go together like
oil and river.
they closed the river off,
so i guess that i cant cross,
so i guess that i cant see you,
so i guess just call it off.
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2. |
Soulful
04:08
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there’s something soulful about the way
that you wreak havoc on my life.
there’s something mournful about the way
that you illuminate my light.
been chipping paint off my bedroom walls
all night.
i can’t sleep ‘cause when i do i only dream
about my hands grazing the back of your head.
the veins in your neck match the lines in my palms,
but you can’t see that.
there’s something dreadful about the way
that you feed warm hope into my soul.
there’s something soulful about the way
you’ve thrown me in the gulf of mexico.
even while i drown i’ll love the way it felt
when you picked me up for the throw.
i swear to God, you could feed me to wolves
and my ghost winds will only help you
style your hair,
and i’d put a good word in
so you’d get to heaven
and maybe say hello to me while you’re there.
there’s something soulful about the way
that you’re the annie wilkes of my life.
but i’ll take the misery, baby,
over the shining joyland
all night.
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3. |
Tried
03:07
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i threw a stone through your window.
i thought it'd be romantic,
but i cut you with the glass.
and as you bled out on the carpet,
you told me the itch you felt for me
was just a rash.
and i know we would've clashed,
but still it would've been so fun
to try and then we could have said,
“i tried even though they werent the one.”
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4. |
I Dream in Flute Sounds
04:55
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i dream in flute sounds.
i dream of you drowning
in my sheets
while i’m staring through my own window
from the outside
and you’re sleeping soundly without me.
i dream in out of tune pianos,
c scales and e scales colliding.
you cultivate the nightmare—
i wake up in a sweat.
your call would be the cooling air,
your voice an ice bath,
but you’re not there.
how can this bed feel so empty without your body
if your body’s never been in it?
if i could take you home tonight and keep you through daylight
i’d do it right this minute.
i dream of girl.
i dream of your touch on her knee.
she sings a tune of adoration.
i can’t make out the words
but her pitch
never strays from the melody.
i play my out of tune piano.
d minor chords in the darkness.
she cultivates a nightmare—
i wake up in a sweat.
your call would be the cooling air,
your voice an ice bath,
but you’re where?
i dream in flute sounds.
i dream of you running from the trees.
you’re running from a creature.
it’s ravenous.
it’s got red eyes and white serrated teeth.
the creature is me.
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5. |
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summer night is giving me the chills.
i'm losing myself over the flat when i’m a woman of the hills.
summer nightmare a horse pill, but it’s a happy pill.
you throw it into wheat fields.
i let the crossroads tell me I have so much ahead.
so much to choose; you arent even an option, and yet
your head eclipses the sun while i try to watch it set.
or maybe the darkness is what i need.
small town america still exists
and it’s taking a piss
all over my big city dreams
and i dont even live here.
small town america still exists,
and in all of this,
i think it might actually be good for me.
run away, back into town.
i wonder what this town will sing when i’m not around.
run away to the south side, but that’s the hotter side.
so hot i lose my mind.
many roads to tell me i have so much ahead,
east of columbus, south of indy, west of west lafayette,
but your head eclipses the sun as it’s setting in the west.
maybe the darkness is what i need.
small town america
still exists
and it’s more meaningful
than i’m willing to admit
and your head’s a solar eclipse
and i dance in the darkness.
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6. |
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i’m so sick of this one-sided want.
a gaze out westward windows and with no one parked out front.
i just want to be your first and last thought.
the first one you’d run to
if the world was going into cardiac arrest.
this feeling's like a vine.
i knew i wasnt what you wanted.
i knew when I felt your heartbeat slow against my back.
i knew then that your morals had caught up.
you’re too good for me,
we’re on different realities.
i tried so hard to fight it, and i almost could control it
but then it was good, and that made it worse
and now you’re pushing back and now it’s even worse—
i think i’m cursed.
this feeling's like a vine
but does it replay over and over or does it climb?
i feel spiders on my feet and the window is closing by itself but yet sleep still isnt flooding.
i liked lying on your bed but now you’ve blocked it all off.
it’s a VIP lounge and i am not important
to you.
lately my self esteem has been fermenting in the sewer drains
and i thought for a minute you were hired to clean it out
but all you did was take a shit
and now i'm worse off than before.
mind all cluttered from your kiss.
it was like an estate sale—
all this treasure but now my shelves are full and smell slightly of death.
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7. |
Clenched Fists
05:21
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you say we shouldnt have kissed,
you’re a man of regret.
you’ve got my scent on your hips
but no ache in your chest.
i hold this all in my fists,
you say it’s good that i left.
but my hands are useless—
i can’t unclench.
no i cant let go.
you wonder how
i can hold onto to nothing,
as if that’s what it was.
yeah, we can be friends
but always know
i’ll always wish
you’d fall in love.
they say to find someone who
inspires your creative soul.
you make writing come naturally,
and really that’s the goal.
i hold the pen in my fist.
you say i’ll find someone new.
but it’s all meaningless—
my ink spills and spells only you.
with the one
with the ache in her chest
in the shape of your head
with the sound of your heart that night—
so fast, don’t deny it.
i’ll find it,
the last fuse to connect
that will let you forget
you ever never wanted me.
no i cant
let go.
you wonder how
i can hold,
but always know
i’ll always know
that there’s always a chance,
so i’ll never not hope.
but we can be friends,
but always know,
that i want you every minute
and i cannot let go.
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8. |
Mortality
02:15
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let's forget morality for a night.
we’re all slaves of mortality
and i dont wanna die with regret.
let's forget morality for a night.
we're all slaves of mortality.
do you want to die with regret?
we don't have to regret things yet.
and you gotta admit,
doing the wrong thing is kinda nice.
or at least its hot,
or maybe not.
do you want to die with regret?
we don't have to regret things yet.
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9. |
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take your time,
take your time,
take your time with me.
build a bridge,
crack your spine,
you’ll be fine,
you’ll see.
drink the blood of the grass,
green green but it bleeds.
eat the crud beneath the dust beneath the bones
on the street.
i’m a liar, i’m a liar,
liar, i dont wanna leave
but if i stay
you’ll start to hate
my scent on your sheets.
but i would trade all the bumps in the road
for your heartbeat.
all the billboards i pass say:
it wouldnt have worked anyway.
im stuck in this
cruel fate.
i dont even wanna date,
i just want you to say
that i mattered to you more than i think i did.
oh, but who am i kidding?
you’re probably dancing now that im gone.
you’ve rinsed out the blood.
you’re mowing your lawn.
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10. |
Spinal Cord
03:09
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tell me what i should be and i'll be it all the time.
your metronome clicks groove with the groove of my spine
and i feel i can say anything i want, but i won't—
not 'til you’re mine.
the way your hand feels on my back cannot be expressed,
except on a hospital cardiac monitor after a cardiac arrest.
they say i’m paralyzed, it’s fine.
i knew you’d fuck me up
with your touch, so electric.
get me good
with your eyes.
get me good
in my spine.
i can’t stop trembling.
is this a side effect
of being your side n-nothing?
keep me in your pocket and i promise not to speak,
but i get awfully jealous so you better hide your keys.
i might come at any girl who’ll look your way—
she’s not me.
the shaky ink in my skin spells out your name,
right down the middle of my back, my body frame.
you dirty up your fingers and touch the open wounds—
love is pain.
don't know if i deserve to say it,
'cause we’re just friends or whatever,
but you get on my nerves babe it’s
kinda crippling.
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11. |
Parking Garage
04:51
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maybe i’m angry again.
maybe i’m trying to heal.
maybe i’m working too hard in trying to—
in trying not to feel.
but maybe theres a river ahead.
maybe i can set sail.
maybe i’m looking for mail
because i just want communication.
and you’re like a parking garage,
i drive around and around but i’m lost.
i can’t find my way.
can’t find my way out.
and i can’t find my way out.
there is no way in or out,
just around, around.
you’re this maze of cement staircase.
i hate it.
and now i am golden.
now i am glowing around.
but i’m fake, not worth the dime.
i am silver plated—
wash right off and i turn your fingers green.
but maybe there's a river ahead.
you’re like a parking garage,
i drive around and around but i’m lost.
i can’t find my way.
can’t find my way out.
and i can’t find my way out.
there is no way in or out,
just around, around.
you’re this maze of cement staircase.
i hate that i like it.
and i’ve got so many things to sing.
i want you to listen to everything.
i want you to know that i tried
to get out of this mess of cement staircase.
you’re like a parking garage
and i’m driving around in circles
and i cannot get out.
i guess i’ll set up camp and live here.
this is where i live now.
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12. |
Morning
05:14
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would it be too forward to say id rent a place in your town
just to be close to you
for a year lease at least?
would it be too forward to say i’d hope you’d stay the night?
lay where ever you’d like on my bed
as long as you’d be a place to rest my head.
and i imagine myself in a shirt and underwear, nine AM,
fingers wrinkled from washing my silverware
and you’re there.
you stayed the night again.
and as i finish the last dish
i look into your eyes and the realization hits.
you’re finally starting to like me
for more than just my bed and my body.
but that’s all far from now,
or not at all.
i cant keep whispering 'bout summer so i fall.
i pull you down to fall
but you stand
and i crumble at your feet, sugar sand.
and your brand is hopeless
and im an optimist
you’re not exactly what i need,
but i need you to say
you imagine me in a shirt and underwear, nine AM,
fingers wrinkled from washing my silverware
and you’re there.
you stayed the night again.
and as i finish the last dish
you look into my eyes and the realization hits.
you’re finally starting to like me
for more than just my bed and my body.
my body is calling out your name.
every cell’s in pain
from this pull from this want
from this want from this crave
from this crave from this need
from this need from this need
from this need to tell you.
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13. |
The Matador
08:15
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sharp breath at the matador collapse.
it was the end of life, i knew it was.
but it was all just an act.
the crowd screamed and clapped.
it was fantastic—but i was just a kid.
gone bad, the pinion and rack.
it was the end of life, i knew it was.
fate’s all out of whack,
fate's all out of whack
it's fantastic.
can drain cleaner clean the holes in my mind
that fill up with bad things?
fears and tragedies and things?
pour it on my scalp to soak in.
fear is a bad home-cooked meal.
or ragout de toro from seville, and i feel
i’d feel less sick without it.
so let me do without it.
darkness was never meant to relax.
it’s the end of life, it always was.
hallucinating bad,
shadows in the glass.
it’s fantastic—
i’ll always be a kid.
you were the best i never had.
i was a wreck, i knew i was.
i let myself collapse,
a matador, my last
performance
sent you running.
can drain cleaner clean the holes in my mind
that fill up with bad things?
fears and tragedies and things?
pour it on my scalp to soak in.
fear is a bad home-cooked meal.
or ragout de toro from seville, and i feel
i’d feel less sick without it.
you know i always felt a little hungrier when you were around.
i suppose starvation is good for me.
maybe you were good for me.
maybe i’m bad for you
but you’re good for me.
and i’ve had brushes of fate with soulmates.
if they’re not made for me, then no one is,
but if i can be honest, you’re the only person i’ve kissed
who i’ve felt fireworks with.
and normally i stay inside for the fourth of july—
i fear the volatility and i hate the sound.
but you change something in me.
i like having you around.
matador, oh, you keep me in check
you keep me on track
the crowd, they clap, oh
matador, yeah, you keep me in check
you keep me on track
the crowd, they clap, yeah.
off night,
the one is me,
the darkness of death—
i can’t let go yet.
your lawn, crippling.
now you see what i mean.
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Louvena the Scout New Jersey
pop-rock, rocket pops, poprocks, indie stuff, indiana stuff, music to drive to or clean to or look longingly at the moon wishing you were there instead of earth to
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