1. |
Pin
02:07
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disrupted dirt and sinking sediment
underneath every new development
i made a sound but couldn’t pin it down
and spent a decade trying to follow it around
with factories blooming fluorescence and steam
the city’s a story still developing
the turnpike gate clamps down to start the scene
like a shutter snapping candids of a dream
you’re whiskey and soda, mid-afternoon
you mix it strong so there’s a crack amongst the croon
we’re taking shelter, throwing darts at works of art
or tossing rings on strings at nails in the backyard
so if there’s love here
then i have seen it
then i have known it in its volatile grace
concrete and water
dappled with dirt and sunlit signals
singing soft refrains of how there’s just so many other things to be
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2. |
Sanctuary City
03:23
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i wonder what they’ll build next here
and what our block will look like this time next year
i bet i don’t recognize it
i’m on the subway with my arms up
half for space, half in expression of “enough is enough”
you splurge on a cab, we kiss in the back seat
and for a second we forget that
there’s so many other things to be
than searching for a sanctuary city
overripe west side summer sun setting
splitting earbuds on the bus, carole king and otis redding
and i try to be tender, try to be kind and remind myself that
there is such quiet grace in
private moments in public spaces
we sing on stolen ground and borrowed time
and for a second we forget that
there’s so many other things to be
than searching for a sanctuary city
wrote a note and a song
for goodness with no agenda
may we map our palms to the landscape
may we till this ground forever
there’s a landscape coming into focus
eyes locked on a figure in the distance
remember to remember
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3. |
Can't Help But Wonder
03:06
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skipping every other step down
an inertia carried southbound
on a train back home to you
felt a power in the stillness
and a critical resilience
a pushback overdue
it doesn’t have an address
it changes with the context
the future stares you down and you stare right back and say:
and i can’t help but wonder
if the light that we’re losing
comes from the cracks in the logic
i’ve been leaning on for years
i learned that every new footprint
of every new development
will displace something else
in a garden made of mirror and ceramic
east midwest to mid-Atlantic
framed in grout and concrete and
gifted like a travel souvenir
so when i spin around
and look for validation
remind me that the inches i’m losing
off of massive fields of space are well-deserved.
and i can’t help but wonder
if the light we’re losing
comes from the cracks in the logic
i’ve been leaning on for years
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4. |
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i only saw you a couple times last year. once at a wedding and once at a funeral. i wore the same clothes to both and i was worried you would notice cause yours were impeccable. you filled me in on potential five-year plans. you’re thinking of jobs and homes and children. slowly rotating a silver wedding band between your thumb and middle finger. and i wondered “oh my god, did i get lost? am i young enough to just move on?” i saw a classmate i hadn’t seen in years. he was well-dressed and i fucked up our handshake. “how’s making music? i haven’t listened yet, but somebody said you’re doing great.” and it felt like a dream at double-speed on a Greyhound back from Pittsburgh. comparing something like that to where others are at? what a backwards way to calculate self-worth. my mother’s out there climbing mountains. my father’s finished with his work. my sister’s moving to a brand new city. my brother’s looking out for her . but anyway, thanks for having me over to your new old apartment. i’m doing well, my flight was fine. i see you listened to the record that i sent you. i wish i saw you all the time, but this is fine. i hope i see you a little more this year. i want a good look at the life that you’re building.
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5. |
I Think We Can Stay Here
03:48
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a checklist kept of every state
amazed by all the ways we emanate
of all the weight a word can bring
and how unassuming people do the most remarkable things
but i’m a living rapid transit nervous system
my feet are wheels applied to tracks
pinned to a path, no deviation
just back and forth & round and round til it all makes sense
we had nowhere to go so we came here
squint back a smile, make the best of an awful year
don’t just cope now, dig in deeper
say it out loud then repeat
i think we can stay here
the summer’s over
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6. |
Time Spent In Transit
03:23
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tried to draw the skyline as the vantage point diminished
just something small to mark the day
and 95 shook my right hand before I finished
the Bolt Bus lurched and turned away
so if you add up all the time spent in transit
would it be enough to settle me down?
and when it comes, will you even know it?
is it even yours to know now?
tangled up in traffic like the headphones in my pocket
(i will resign)
i search for meanings to assign to things like,
(to send you both back to nature)
“how did we do this before we learned too much about it?”
([with a] candle in the woods)
before the mystery lost its shrink-wrapped shine
(still burning)
and now all my landmarks are leaving
as if they all were just figures and facts
untethered to these relative regions
forward, not straight, retracing our tracks
i was under the impression that time moved slow
i mean, you were here just a second ago
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Signals Midwest Cleveland, Ohio
we are a punk/indie band from Cleveland, now spread throughout OH and PA. we've been doing this together since 2008. we have been lucky enough to see the world together but will still play in your kitchen or anywhere really.
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