Released November 30th 2022
All my music is a story about myself and the people around me, this album even more so. It has been a trying year and these were the results of that journey.
It's not real
Someone is falling down today
Somewhere people can see
In the middle of this world
This is what we see
And left in a box
From a case of wine
What's something for the children
It was left on the street
Where people walk and stop
And cross to the side
For all the people here
I know I cannot save you
And why does my head hurt
More than the feeling in your chest
When we come back to the city
To find out what we need
Say my name tonight
When you read this letter
And 3d pictures of our life
Are all we were anyway
Things other people do
Speak to me
With shapes and light
And drive me home
On every single night
Other people get to finish
When other people try to start
When my fingers are all trapped
Entangled in your heart
I keep a box inside my mother's house
It's in a missing cabinet
That looks like I’m 16
You do have lips you do
And they fall from every tree
To blow away down the street
With midnight dust inside of me
With midnight dust inside
I wrapped my legs around this lamp
And close my eyes tonight
There's nothing left inside of this
I think maybe she was right
Hallway photograph
Close your eyes for me please
And imagine all this is real
Learning and stomping our hearts
And please come with me tonight
There's no need to bring yourself
To a place you can't feel anymore
So, sit back down and open up
To this night of streets and wind
So, if you think about it
It might think you're alive
And starting to photograph it
Inside this hallway in your mind
Turn on your side
And touch your tongue
With this hand
And with this song
And maybe I’m just broken
And living in a dream
And nothing lives at all
And nothing is ever clean
Building man-made things
Set down beside the plants
And tie up both your shoes
And clean under your fingernails
It doesn't matter what you use
It's a man-made thing
That makes you so afraid
And man-made things don't exist
Inside these books of rain
I feel like I am running
When I see you on the street
But I am really sitting
On the ground beside your feet
And some people are loving
All the parts of this place
When you are staring off
Not taking up any space
As quiet as you are
You fill my mind with sounds
Your story's fill up my stomach
And your people fill up my towns
New mouth
If I can ask you again tonight
Can you hypnotize me please
And send me somewhere back in time
To change all the things I knew
Clean out this filthy place
Where all the children died
And clean up this broken head
And maybe say goodbye
I'll tell on you again today
And every single night
Until this feeling goes away
And contaminate everything in sight
And walk with me
Down to this store
And buy
me a new mouth
And save me
From myself again
And build me a new house
I am not clean tonight not here
I cannot stand to face my friends
I am not real or anything at all
Please tell me when this ends
Each day
I'm supposed to mutter to myself
All the things she is saying
At night and during the day
Every moment I should be praying
Asking him for forgiveness
To be something that's adored
To lose my past and future
And be left indoors
Cleaning out these animals
Who left their lives inside of me
I can hold my breath forever
And ride this train to you again
Each day is another day
That I want to hold my tongue
Each day is another day
I'm angry at the sun
And each day I wait again
To close my eyes and sleep
And each day is colder than
The last day in this house
The night
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Oh! Give me the night, the dark, dark
night,
The night with never a star.
When the stars are veiled and the moon has
sailed
Beyond the horizon's bar.
When thought grows weary of groping its way
Through darkness dense and deep,
And buries its head in oblivion's bed,
Wrapped warm in the mantle of sleep.
For I hate the night, the moon-white night,
The night with a pallid face,
When a million eyes from the watchful skies
Peers into each secret place.
For thought awakes and the old wound aches,
And sorrow she cannot rest,
But all night long walks to and fro
Through the aisles of my troubled breast.
And memory thinks it her royal hour
When the heavens glitter and shine;
And she
fills the cup of the past well up
With a bitter and scalding wine.
And she calls for a toast to the ghastly
ghost
Of a joy that used to be.
And that terrible face in the dear old moon
Stares steadily down at me.
So give me the night, the deep, dark night,
The night with never a star,
When the skies are veiled and the moon has
sailed
Beyond the horizon's bar.
Don't go downstairs
Why would she even like basements
It would seem the truest version
Of a person named with that name
Would want to be as high as can be
And living above you
In a bright an ancient home
In clouds that are above you
As far from here as possible
I know why you left here
It makes perfect sense
It follows the procedure
When you're trying to cleanse
Surrounded by animals
Who feed off your thoughts
Giving you closure
Inside of your parts
Far from this basement
This darkness this sadness
As high as is possible
Without any gladness
Talking to ghosts (a vagabond mind)
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Since early this morning the world has
seemed surging
With unworded rhythm, and rhyme without
thought.
It may be the muses take this way of urging
The patience and pains by which poems are
wrought.
It may be some singer who passed into
glory,
With songs all unfinished, is lingering
near
And trying to tell me the rest of the
story,
Which I am too dull of perception to hear.
I hear not, I see not; but feel the sweet
swinging
And swaying of metre, in sunlight and
shade,
The still arch of space with such music is
ringing
As never an audible orchestra made.
The moments glide by me, and each one is
dancing;
Aquiver with life is each leaf on the tree,
And out on the ocean is movement
entrancing,
As billow with billow goes racing with
glee.
With never a thought that is worthy the
saying,
And never a theme to be put into song,
Since early this morning my mind has been
straying,
A vagabond thing, with a vagabond throng,
With
gay, idle moments, and waves of the ocean,
With winds and with sunbeams, and tree-tops
and birds,
It has
lilted along in the joy of mere motion,
To songs without music and verse without
words.
History lesson
I woke up this morning
From a dream or a memory
Of something I was part of
In the distant history
And what thing lives inside you
That makes you want to hate
The things that are not like you
And all the worlds we make
And maybe someone killed you
And someone killed them too
And someone never ended
And someone broke your heart
And there is something inside you
That makes you tear me up
And crush the things I hold onto
And makes me never want to start
He was a tiny person
Growing in the world
And somehow, he stopped growing
And went to sleep again
Greetings from somewhere
I might write you a letter
And turn it into a book
And ask you to answer me
And I’ll give back what I took
Just say that you love me
And walk with me a bit
Down to the post box
Where me and you will sit
And I’ll read you a cereal box
And a list of all the ingredients
Well you look up to the stars
And tell me where you came from
Let's take our shoes off
Let's go down to the beach
And fall down from dancing
You are always out of reach
You aren't really real no
It's all inside my head
I wish it was real though
I'd never leave my bed
Basement fire
I walked over to the counter
And I asked what I could have
I was giving a list of things
That would make most people sad
I struggle to get to my home
And felt like I was old
And when I got back home again
I found that I was sold
I cleaned the pipes for winter
And start another book
And keep this morning talking
About all the bread you hook
He sat down in the basement
And he started a little fire
He burned up all the good things
And he felt like a filthy liar
I might come back in autumn
But I might always be away
It's not because I’m empty
Because I’m filled up everyday
The last night
We didn't even know something was wrong
But we received a call to go out and look
And the car window is smashed
But it never did any good
Somewhere you were alone
And crying to yourself
And wondering why nothing is right
And I wish I knew where you were last night
And we saw it coming
But it still came quite fast
Where are your daily habits
And all the things that make you exist
They are moving you here
And they moved you over there
And you feel so sick
I wish I knew where you were last night
How far did I push this
And how far did I fall
You are falling in love tonight
With somebody else outside this house
And you don't look at me
And you don't do things to make me exist
And I wish I didn't know where you were.
If I knew the future
Maybe if this was a story
I could be someone else
Who knows how to fix things
And take care of you forever
Maybe if this was made up
By someone with imagination
I could bring you back here
And follow a trail of eggs
And if i knew the future
I could tell you if I’ll come back
In another life to fight this
And stop the sadness growing
Inside all the people
And children and the women
Who never deserved all this
And thought it would be different
I think I have a secret
And I think it will die with me
Because I can't tell you
And now it's too late
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