1. |
01 - Philadelphia
03:43
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PHILADELPHIA
Well I made the worn-out bus station
In busted worn-out jeans
A homeless man said
“Brother spare a dime”
But all my ragged pockets held
Were two songs and a letter
So I told him
All I had to spare was time
Cause time, the great destroyer
Had become my closest friend
From half a year
Of scratching off the days
I laid my weary luggage down
And leaned against the window
Dreaming of another time and place
Where the storms
Could not reach us
And the walls could only
Teach us how to fly
And oh, sometimes
The sun gets in your veins
And oh, it’s hard to see the beauty
If you have not seen the pain
We rolled into the city
And the sun was sinking low
It bled across
The tired autumn sky
We wandered through
The broken streets
For two hours and a quarter
Staring at the people passing by
And we wondered
Why the shallow live their lives
On telephones
And we wondered
Why the hollow couldn’t cry
We wondered if the proud man
Thinks of looking for forgiveness
Or if his pride has told him it’s a lie
Some are satisfied to burn out
And some are trying to learn
How to fly
And oh, sometimes
The sun gets in your veins
And oh, it’s hard to see the beauty
If you have not seen the pain
And Jane is singing softly
To her cinnamon and wine
Telling lies about
How happy she has been
And Jane is only half asleep
On any given night
In the epilogue
That’s written on her skin
And oh, sometimes
The sun gets in your veins
And oh, it’s hard to see the beauty
If you have not seen the pain
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2. |
02 - October Bird
04:13
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OCTOBER BIRD
See him coming round the corner
In his new designer tie
Holding promises
Like checks that he can cash
And he’s practicing the swagger
And the predatory eye
So he can make ‘em think
That he was born for this
A self-important pair of empty shoes
Are on his feet
And his ball-point roller sword
Is in his hand
And he’ll take on any challenge
From the treadmill or the street
If it fits inside
His perfect five-year plan
If he can
And ten to one
He’ll sign the dotted line
Nine to five
He’ll give the overtime
Pay the piper for some comfort
And a finer glass of wine
In the middle
Where the weather’s always fine
But there’s a wild clear call
Like nothing that he’s heard
Where the season
Writes in wood smoke on the sun
And there’s a fire in his eye
Like a free October bird
That cannot run
He’s been living in the shadow
Of the metro railway line
But he keeps a little sunshine
In the flask
And those broken city sidewalks
Have been chipping at his mind
Every morning
When he rises to the task
But the fragile hands of winter
Won’t stop pulling at his sleeve
And pointing to the writing in the sky
And the free October bird
Is saying “Wait awhile
There’s better ways to fly”
And ten to one
He’ll sign the dotted line
Nine to five
He’ll give the overtime
Pay the piper for some comfort
And a finer glass of wine
In the middle
Where the weather’s always fine
But there’s a wild clear call
Like nothing that he’s heard
Where the season
Writes in wood smoke on the sun
And there’s a fire in his eye
Like a free October bird
That cannot run
And there’s a high pure joy
In soil on your hands
And nothing but the weather
On your mind
And it’s a long cold mile
Until you take the time to fall behind
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3. |
03 - Simple Things
05:02
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SIMPLE THINGS
Forty three and change
Have made the clock
Since I’ve been on the road
And thirty more before the Ninety
To beat the sun and lay me down
Before the whistle blows
Is now the only thing
That keeps me
Pushing all my tired bones
Across the frozen country roads tonight
One more song to sing into the wheel
And one more passing smile
As if I had you here beside me
To break the silence
Of another dark December mile
And show me where to find
The summer days I’ve hidden
Deep inside
A long forgotten time
Somewhere behind me
I drive over the train tracks
And I hear them
Singing softly to me
“Hey now, hey, come on
Why have you not seen
The West Virginia sun
In seven years or so”
And they say
“Hey now, hey, come on
Follow me, I’ll show you
All the simple things
You used to want to know
Not so long ago”
Shot across
The blackened winter roads
Toward the city lights
Like the arrows of the Maker
To leave the highway for awhile
And join the gravel lines
That run across
The hallowed homes
Of riverbeds and mountain pines
Is all that fills my tired mind tonight
Count up all
The windmills on the ridge
And write the number down
Across the record of reflection
And search the edges of the mind
To find an exit from
The hammers and the engines
Of the timeclock
And the busy songs
Of those that fight
To sell you their protection
I park down by the train tracks
And I hear them
Singing softly to me
“Hey now, hey, come on
Why have you not seen
The West Virginia sun
In seven years or so”
And they say
“Hey now, hey, come on
Follow me, I’ll show you
All the simple things
You used to want to know
And they say
“Hey now, hey,
I don’t know if you remember
All the paradise
That sleeps under the snow
And they say
“Hey now, hey, come on
Follow me, I’ll show you
All the simple things
You used to want to know
Not so long ago”
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4. |
04 - Ashley Knows
03:33
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ASHLEY KNOWS
She opens all her hollow cupboards
Stares out of her dirty windows
And lays her tired head
Down in her hands
Her mother’s got the baby
So she finds her tattered needle case
She sighs out loud
And ties the rubber band
And Ashley knows
That one more pill would put her down
And Ashley knows
How fast she’s headed for the wall
And Ashley cries a little
Just to pass the time
And Ashley wonders what it’s like
To hear the words “I need you”
And Ashley finds some small release
In powdered artificial peace
She hides inside
The four walls of her mind
She wonders if her lover fights regret
He has not seen her yet this year
Or the child he left behind
And Ashley knows
That one more pill
Would put her down
And Ashley knows
How fast she’s headed for the wall
And Ashley cries a little
Just to pass the time
And Ashley wonders what it’s like
To hear the words “I need you”
She wants to hear the words
“I love you”
And one December night
She flew a little higher
Than she’d been before
And Ashley cut the cord
And slipped away
And just the other night
I saw her walking down
The boulevard to me
But when I called her name
She turned away
And sometimes I still wonder
If I could’ve shared
Her burdens and her time
And if she might have
Been set free
So if you come across her
On a night just like tonight
Would you tell her
That she’s beautiful for me
And tell her that
She’s valuable to me
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5. |
05 - Poison
05:01
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POISON
On the turning table
There’s a poet pouring out
A secret pain
A needle touches down
And pulls a melody
Out of the running lines
And it sings a soundtrack of
Your desperation for
A feeling with no name
A second needle rests
Under your fingers
Gently tapping out the time
And she’s a poison
She’s a poison, oh
She’s a poison you can’t put down
And she’s a poison
She’s a poison, oh
She’s a poison you can’t put down
You’ve seen it in the water
And you’ve seen it
In the sun behind the trees
You put it down on paper
But you never seem
To capture it in time
And you don’t know why
But when she brushes back her hair
It brings you to your knees
And you pay for it
In pieces of your soul
And you pay for it
In pieces of your mind
And she’s a poison
She’s a poison, oh
She’s a poison you can’t put down
And she’s a poison
She’s a poison, oh
She’s a poison you can’t put down
There’s coffee in a broken cup
And open air, and nicotine for two
And stories of a dozen years
Of dusty shoes and troubadour regret
And you say that
Satisfaction is a game that’s
Only recently for you
But the memory
Is nothing you would sell
And the story
Isn’t half completed yet
And she’s a poison
She’s a poison, oh
She’s a poison you can’t put down
And she’s a poison
She’s a poison, oh
She’s a poison you can’t put down
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6. |
06 - Sugar and Salt
04:42
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SUGAR AND SALT
Sitting on a front porch
There’s a watchman down
On Hennepin and Vine
Eighty seven years
Have covered him
With biographic lines
He says now there’s nothing he can do
But hold onto
His reflections of a bitter love
Under an August moon
He feels nothing but
The arrows of his old familiar tunes
He’s got nothing but
His picket fence
And seven empty rooms
And memories of sugar and of salt
And Molly’s looking prettier these days
Without her Maybelline charade
She’s been learning how
To climb across
The boundaries she’s made
She says now there’s
A new umbrella over her parade
And Molly sings
Of the tragedy of apathy
The bitterness of shame
She’s been selling off her tickets
To the old familiar game
Says ”Why is it that
We love the sun
And do not love the rain?”
She’s measuring her sugar
And her salt
And oh, I can taste it
When we head down to the water
And leave our shoes behind
And oh, I can taste it
When we talk about the future
And forget to count the time
The Devil’s got my time again
And all my mind is focused on
The nickel and the dime again
And all the years
I’ve spent to make them mine
You say now
I’m just a little too close to the line
And I could find
That I’ve traded all my sunburn
For some quiet middle ground
That I’ve passed a couple chances
While the chances were around
That I’ve missed out on a little love
And let some lovers down
But I’m working on
My sugar and my salt
Yeah, I’m working on
My sugar and my salt
And sitting on a back porch
There’s a watchman down
On Hennepin and Vine
Eighty seven years
Have covered him
With biographic lines
He says now there’s
Nothing he can do but hold onto
His reflections of a bitter love
Under an August moon
He feels nothing but
The arrows of his old familiar tunes
He’s got nothing but
His picket fence
And seven empty rooms
But he’s got
Memories of sugar and of salt
Yeah, he’s got
Memories of sugar and of salt
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7. |
07 - More than This
03:45
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MORE THAN THIS
Lately she’s practicing
Telling herself that she’s fine
She’s working on
Burning the catalogues
Buried inside
But she keeps the classifieds
Hoping for some kind of sign
That maybe there’s more than this
And April is wearing down
Winter’s immovable stone
The trees by the parking lot
Shake all the snow from their bones
And under the canopy
Waiting in vain for the sun
She’s looking for more than this
And April is bitter then sweet
April is never complete
And April is lovely this time of year
Lately she’s learning to sleep
Without locking her door
She’s gathering reasons
And spreading them out on the floor
To put on her shoes and find out
What the highway is for
Cause maybe there’s more than this
And lately she’s sorting out
Pieces of resident pain
A new kind of hunger
Is growing inside of her veins
To roll for that one-in-a-million
Or kiss in the rain
There’s gotta be more than this
And April is bitter then sweet
April is never complete
And April is lovely this time of year
And April has never been
Really at home
And I know I’ve never been
Quite so alone
Cause April is lovely
This time of year
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8. |
08 - Timothy
03:51
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TIMOTHY
Timothy’s got bags under his eyes
From leaning on the dreaming
That he did when he was young
And finding out there’s more
Under the sun
Than quiet mountain roads
And Timothy’s been writing
In a book to stay awake
He chronicles the stories
Of a thousand old mistakes
But they don’t seem
To cut as deeply
As the stories of the faces
That he’s known
And there’s nothing like
A pair of empty arms
To turn your memory to home
And we sing, la na na na na
There’ something else here
La na na na na
And soon we’ll see it
It isn’t taken until
It has been given away
Take this cup from me
And la na na na na
There’ something sweeter
La na na na na
Than burning bridges
It isn’t taken until
It has been given away
Take this cup from me
Timothy’s been wandering at night
He finds a few new feelings
In a dirty neon sky
And slowly he’s forgetting
To remember that
He used to be a man
And the city’s got her pick
Of all the pennies in his pocket
And her fathers tell him
How to use his weekdays until five
He’s lately finding out
It takes a little more
Than life to be alive
And there’s nothing like
A crowd of painted strangers
To make you wonder why
And we sing, la na na na na
There’ something else here
La na na na na
And soon we’ll see it
It isn’t taken until
It has been given away
Take this cup from me
And la na na na na
There’ something sweeter
La na na na na
Than burning bridges
It isn’t taken until
It has been given away
Take this cup from me
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9. |
09 - Blue Ridge August
03:47
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BLUE RIDGE AUGUST
A dirty white tee shirt
That I’ve worn for three days
Jane is sleeping in the sun
I stretch the canvas
Of my thrift-shop guitar, and
Jane is singing in the shade
I feel the slow burn
On my arms and on my face
And Jane is praying for the rain
She says the unmarked cars
And dirty bars of downtown
Middle-of-nowhere-Ville
Are scratching at her soul again
And the season washes out
Our small pretenses
As the river plays a chorus
On the stones
And the hymns of
Ancient hilltops on a
Blue Ridge August evening
Let us know
That we are never quite alone
The peeling yellow paint
Is perfect as it is
And Jane is sleeping in the sun
In a beat up shack
You couldn’t pay no-one to take
And Jane is checking off her list
Sometimes you swear that
You can recognize the breeze
And Jane can’t help but reminisce
She says the painted flowers
And empty hours of downtown
Be-with-you-shortly-Ville
Could never measure up to this
And the season washes out
Our small pretenses
Like the Sycamore
That filters out the stars
And the hymns of thunder
Roll across
A Blue Ridge August evening
To reflect a greater
Mystery than ours
And in a couple days
We’ll head back to the valley
And we’ll walk
Under the streetlights in the dark
And sing our hymns
Of Blue Ridge August
For the downtown
Roll-up-the-sidewalks-Ville
And light our candles in the dark
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10. |
10 - Hunter Mountain
04:24
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HUNTER MOUNTAIN
Sixteen sons of senators
And sixteen sons of kings
Are stuck in their imaginary land
They’re building pretty caskets
For their artificial things
And waiting to be dealt a better hand
But they’ve got nothing
They’ve got nothing
But comfort and a seat
Right by the band
And sixteen sons of diplomats
Are focused on the screen
Where twenty-something interns
Learn to lie
They’re gathering their box tops
For a new decoder ring
To add to their estate before they die
But they’ve got nothing
They’ve got nothing
But collections of frustration
In their eyes
And I’d trade it all
For an hour on Hunter Mountain
Where an old friend
Is the sweetest kind of wine
And I hadn’t learned
To sell my peace of mind
And thirty new executives
Are staring at the glass
That holds their daily image of the sky
They know the work is meaningful
And maybe this will pass
And maybe they’ll feel something
By and by
But they’ve got nothing
They’ve got nothing
But another new incentive
To comply
And I’d trade it all
For an hour on Hunter Mountain
Where we’d use our songs
To measure off the time
And we made our fortune
Leaving it behind
One song
For the blue September sky
And one song
Tor the sunlight in our eyes
And one song
For a tender hand to hold
And thoughts of growing old
And in the fall
I’m going to Hunter Mountain
To find that treasure
Time cannot erase
And measure all my sins
Against your grace
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