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chorus:
fingered a coin return
whistled around like a little bird
let his hair grow long
happy enough to let it all go wrong
the grey, grey street
and the stores all around
and the summer is dead
I painted it red
chorus
that's what he said
when i went there
i wasn't afraid
wasn't afraid
chorus
fingered a coin return
whistled around like a little bird
he wasn't afraid
he wasn't afraid
put a dime in my hand
cause i am your man
put a dime in my hand
put a dime in my hand
fingered a coin return
whistled around like a little bird
brown feathers along his legs
brown feathers along his legs
and i knew he wasn't afraid
cause i got him there and what did i say
put a dime in his hand
put a dime in his hand
chorus
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2. |
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my time in the world
your time in the world
that you left for yourself
didn't want it for anybody else
all things good and bad
that could hang on your wall
set it down if you wanna stall
it's only after all
when you can't stop
when you're after the call
that brought you back up
so you ride in the air
and you take your fair share
cause the lines in your face
can tell what this place
can do for
any family, future
or friendly
Chorus:
time to get your eyes checked
time to make a moment
time to put aside
all the things on your mind
and hear what someone else has to say
someone else has to say
but if you'd rather get away
cause i, i, when i was all i
yes i-i-i i try, i try, i try i
uh i try i try
cause i will die
when my time
shoots through the light
at any old time
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3. |
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Georgia Mars lives inside her house
hidden from the rain.
But when she needs to be outside,
she runs to the alleyway.
yes she does.
Jump in the puddles
splash in the water
Hot breath hanging in the air.
She watches it float
until it disappears
Then she breathes again
and is no longer scared (repeat)
Georgia notices the vent
smoking too
Up from the basement
laundry room
A house must be like a person
she decides
It's lungs are in the basement
and its windows are the eyes.
She must see the rows of
friends that surround
These old houses
funneling rain to the ground.
Georgia dances and leaps
at the thought
as she grows old
she can take all that she's got
Pour it where she may
like she never forgot
Those storm clouds tell her
what she ought
In all these years since
it's all she's ever sought.
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The wind would whip the skin right off your head
The popular public opinion would confuse,
you'd get so sick.
The time you spent sleeping
would be your only trip.
Pending planned appointments
you'd find a reason to skip.
It'd take you only a moment xxxxx
to find more skin to pick
Pick At It!
BlackoutMouth!
Coming right Up!
Then there's something
and the balance rests
Your soul adjusts
to the curve of the coastline crest
Thumb a line across the horizon
between the heavens and the drink,
Blackoutmouth to kiss you
Better kiss me quick
Echo's rising off the Harbor
Lips taste the mist
BlackoutMouth has brought me here
Blackoutmouth is my kick.
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5. |
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If you ever saw your mother riding by
balancing the handle bars and holding a pizza pie
Underneath a panoramic azure skyline
and a news helicopter from channel 9
(you'd know)
Full key chain and greasy jeans
Two dollar pack of pipe smoke screens
and some long looping dream,
was all I never really needed due me.
(sink or swim)
Let him Tally/ Let him Go/ Let him Tally/
Old boardwalk made in 1921
People on that boardwalk
sure do know to have their fun.
Planks of wood, battered down
and caked with come.
Let em down, nail em down
down into the ground.
Let the boardwalk break
Let it take you to the brink
where you can fall, swim, or sink
Let shit hit the fan,
let it go, let it be written
in the yellow sand
Sink or swim
Let him Tally/ Let him Go/ Let him Tally...
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6. |
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God grant me empathy.
Please try and make a
better person out of me.
Should you ever get a chance,
You'll never get a better chance at a person
that'd make a better person that made a better person.
God grant me empathy
and as you can see,
there's a fist a the end of my arm.
Here I hear you come
won't you break it apart,
and keep me from harm
at the length of my arm.
Hand on my neck
Words at my ear
I think I get you now
I think you've made yourself clear.
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7. |
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the lone survivor
came back down
his hands at his sides
and slowing his stride
he was still alive
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8. |
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when i wanna be someone else,
you know what i do? you know what i do?
when i wanna become someone else,
you know what i do? do you know what i do?
i ring a bell,
and by the end of the grow,
I've got a hardened heart.
your store of feelings calcified
a long time ago.
no voice could carry those thoughts of yours to light,
so I think you'll let them rest under the folds.
when i wanna be someone else,
you know what i do? you know what i do?
i ring a bell,
and by the end of the grow,
I've got a hardened heart.
when i wanna be someone else,
you know what i do? you know what i do?
your store of feelings calcify,
no voice could carry those
thoughts of yours to light.
so please stop jumping out of your skin,
here comes someone else who will carry them.
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"The bear's right hand plays at hummingbird speeds with home run power. His face is wet with effort, his eyes--so shut, his mouth roaring, his body believing every moment of this. Behind him, in the forest of Eleanor's construction, the birch drums furiously with an earnestness and devotion that could break your heart if you let it. His face all “I'm not so sure about this” and his hands answering “What are you talking about? Look how easy it is to be amazing!” Together, the bear and the birch—Brendan and Pete—fill their stage with a vision of what it looks like to get to do what you want: it's fucking messy and beautiful and loud and when you strut out into the audience knowing exactly what the hell you did to make life feel so fucking beautiful right now, you can feel that they want to embrace you, but you can feel them hold back because they're not as brave as you...yet."
-Adjua Greaves,
hundredsofways.blogspot.com
released March 8, 2010
brendan morris-guitar, vocal
peter cernauskas- drums
mixed and engineered by adam reich
recorded live December 4th, 2009
fuck ups allowed
all songs written by brendan morris
music by eleanor
live photos by pete slusarski
thebeatphoto.blogspot.com
