1. |
Let Go
04:49
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6am. You can just see the light of the dawn through the life smeared panes.
There’s never enough time to do more than clear away.
Forge a path through the clutter and catch on up with the day.
An endless struggle to just stay part of the race.
Don’t despair. People rarely follow the path they thought that they would.
Better to enjoy the trees than get lost in the wood.
You can second guess till you’ve guessed your seconds away
And died on the edge of a minute that’s lost in a day
Let go.
Take you pills. Take the edge off the pain and rejoice in the lay of the land.
I use a crutch for support as much as the next man.
I think everyone’s got that way they deal with the stress.
To quieten the constant believe that we’re making a mess
Let go.
Cross your arms. Feel resolve in the steadfast belief that you’re doing your best
Do what you can and make peace with leaving the rest
There’s no shame in admitting the burden is too much to bare
Shelter your faltering flame for as long as you dare
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2. |
100 Seconds To Midnight
04:05
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The end is nigh or so it seems
It’s been coming for a while but it’s definitely nearer than before
So bolt the door
and grab your crucifix or horseshoe and start polishing them up
Because you’ll need luck. Or you’ll need God.
And any other outside influence who cares to join our party
We’ve got bread and wine for days.
A sacrosanct coincidence with which to offer up your praise
But there is nothing left to grow
In this forgotten, fallow hole
There is nowhere left to go
Except this bricked up, bombed out home
We’ve seen so much, but not enough
A decade backlit by this fading light, an angelic aura glows
It masks the dirt, and hides the cracks
Shields the fuck ups and the weaknesses we clutch behind our backs
Until we’re cursed, or so it seems
Left to drown in the crescendo silence of our inner scream
There is nowhere left to hide
From this ever rising tide
There is nowhere left to go
Except this bricked up, bombed out home
Except this mess that we call home
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3. |
Pass Me By
03:47
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You declare that the game must have changed while you were away, but you’re just out of shape
It’s rather sad to see you chasing a prize no longer there, the sweat’s in your eyes.
You don’t know that it’s all over now.
You stand alone on the field.
Born a winner, but you lost and it hurts
And life passed you by while you hid.
You were barely a child the first time they took you away, your limbs black and blue
Colour drains from your face even now thinking back to what they would do
You built a fortress around your mind
The only place you could heal
Painted words high on every side
‘Don’t let life pass me by while I hide.’
Grab a pencil and outline the pain in your heart then colour it in.
Hang it framed from the walls of your chest and watch it fade, as it starts the blend in.
Till you’ll know that it’s there but you won’t now quite where and you’ll know that it’s time to move on.
Yeah you’ll know that it’s there, but you just can’t say where, and you’ll know that it’s time to move on.
Life became trashy novels and soaps long ago, it’s all that I need.
It might seem from an outsiders view I’ve never moved, but age beats us all.
If you’d seen what I’d done with my life,
All the problems I’ve solved.
You’d allow me to quieten my mind
And let life pass me by whilst I hide.
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4. |
This House Is Yours
03:17
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5. |
The Gristle and the Grit
04:30
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I was scared of you today
And I’m not certain but I think we lost our way
Trapped between the give and take
The halfway point between a fracture and a break
I have chewed and spat it out
Scraped it up and put it back inside my mouth
Past the gristle and the grit
I will chew until I find a place we fit
We’re running ourselves into the ground
I’m stuck down to this floor.
I need to feel your hand pull me through that door
I’m wasted but I’m wired
Alive but living two feet from the pyre
I’m healthy but I’m not
A perfume worn to hide a hint of rot
It takes everything I’ve got
To climb to my knees
I’m begging could you please lift me up?
I have wondered where you are
Wondered why you’d ever let it get this far
An angry man afraid to die
A stubborn anthem lost beneath a plaintive cry
And I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can’t feel his grace
The smoke is thick and the flames lick at my face
I’m sorry, It takes so much just to grieve
A life spent alive is the best that I can be
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6. |
Fear The Rain
04:27
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meet me by the bridge you said but then you never came
so i stood for hours waiting in the rain
the landscape was a chequer board of green and brown decay
and i wondered if it’d had always been that way
its not easy to be upbeat
when the world around is in chaos and you’re strapped into the seat
but I’m trying, yes i’m trying
to count my blessings like my mother wrote
but it’s tiring, very tiring
like trying to keep a sinking ship afloat
come down to the town with me I know a cafe there
they do pour overs with beans they roast themselves
but no amount of yirgecheffe and caffeine magazine
will change the fact you’re nowhere to be seen
it’s not easy to be upbeat
when your plane is in a free fall and you’re thrown out of your seat
but I’m trying, yes i’m trying
to count my blessings like my mother say
but it’s tiring, very tiring
like trying to find your way out of a maze
I might never see you again, but that’s ok
I must learn not to fear the rain, because i’m ok
Let’s go climb a mountain we could see for miles around
but a fog came down and blanketed the world
stumbling through the nothingness i tried to reach the top
knowing full well you wouldn’t be there when I stopped
it’s not easy to be upbeat
when all around is darkness and you cannot see your feet
but I’m trying, yes i’m trying
to count my blessings like my mother does
but it’s tiring, very tiring
like clinging to an idea of what was
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7. |
Eyesore
05:27
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he couldn’t remember what it was before it was what it is
it’s an empty shell, it’s an eyesore at the end of the green
he’d heard how important it was before everyone lost their jobs
it had been so much more than a broken door to piss against
but time moves on and an industry now gone
and 4 out of 15 who worked here lost their lives
he was only 5 when the news broke like the waves on the beach
but looking back he’s sure they must have seen it coming
the storm clouds brewing in the sky, as one by one they dropped like flies
families ripped apart when they realised they’d lost it all
but time moves on and industry’s long gone
and 4 out of 15 who worked here killed themselves
by the time he was 10 things had settled down,
most of his friends had moved to the town
his best friend’s dad now worked the tills at co-op
but drunk and angry on a Friday night, he would reminisce about what it was like
to wrestle the seas everyday and come out on top
they say that time kills pain and life is just a game
but 4 out of 15 who worked here couldn’t take the shame.
15 now and all he thinks about is the fastest way he can make it out
but they still meet there every Friday night to get stoned
the next generation of young men, gathering right where their father’s met
in that empty shell, in the eyesore at the end of the green
but time moves on, and life repeats
and some of the young men who meet here won’t ever leave
he comes back now when he feels obliged, time has paused in his mother’s eyes
but he feels nothing more than an emptiness and relief
20 years since his father died, dragged under by his macho pride
and a world that was moving faster than he could keep up
time moves on, and memories are gone
but the eyesore at the end of the green still stands.
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8. |
My Brother's Name
03:17
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The last time that we spoke, you yelled in my face
For not helping you up and away from that place
As illness tore down walls you designed long ago
You were shocked and afraid of a friend turned to foe
But I know you didn’t mean it
I know you didn’t mean it
You called me by my brothers name
So I know you weren’t with it
There’s a picture of you that I have on my phone
In your favourite chair like a king in his throne
Reading the paper with the cat on your chest
You are trying to look annoyed but it’s bemused at best
And I know you didn’t mean it
I know you didn’t mean it
You cried as we buried that cat
And I’d never seen you do that
McEwans and pipe smoke, two books a week
Thousands of drawings of forgotten technique
We watched that drift away and no one could speak
You could see it and then it was gone
We slept on the floor for days by your bed
Any words left to say now forever unsaid
Nothing was planned on the day that you died
You did not leave a will, you had not even tried
I hope you didn’t mean it
I hope you didn’t mean it
Tell myself it was just fear
And I hope you didn’t mean it
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9. |
Shoulder The Weight
04:00
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Swing your legs back over the ledge it isn’t your time yet
I can see it in your eyes and the way they mirror mine
But I’ve been talking around the block
Drawing lines and taking stock of what I’ve got
All the battles that I’ve fought and I’m getting tired
Of wondering when we’ll stop and drag ourselves back from the drop
To start again.
Some days it seems like we’re too late
That surely man much feel the weight of selfish acts
As the whole world starts to crack
Call it fate or just bad luck,
A lack of planning from above it’s us to blame
You can give it any name that helps you to sleep
To shut your eyes again and pin it all on other men.
It’s never you.
But as we stare down from this ledge
Every choice we have made stares back up
Every promise never kept
Every badly thought out cover up
Harsh words hover in the air
In the taste of the fear on our tongues
Truth hidden by despair.
There’s no glory in disrepair.
There’s no glory in disrepair
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10. |
Interlude
01:56
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11. |
God Is In The Detail
04:24
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There’s not much of worth here anymore
10 years and counting since we locked up every door
And there nothing to show what we knew
Communion shared by a chosen few
Now bowing beams, unburnished brass
Ragged holes through coloured glass
Dirt engrained in every pew
Remnants of what’s left of me and you
This building groans, it needs a break
New walls, some paint and an architect
But everything’s been left to rust
A papermache layer of dust
Tear down the walls, install the props
Keep scraping back to where it stops
And find out what is left in there
A barebones structure and a hollow prayer
Feeding the wolves scraps at the door
A sacrifice of sorts won’t stop them wanting any more
And you slice off bits of what you love
Severed limbs won’t hold us up
Begging for that one reprieve
Justification of belief
Footsteps shudder through the floors
Coming for what’s left of you and yours
This building groans, it needs a break
New walls, some paint and an architect
But everything’s been left to rust
A papermache layer of dust
Tear down the walls, install the props
Keep scraping back to where it stops
And find out what is left in there
A barebones structure and a hollow prayer
And what if we built it up again?
Took it apart and made a start again?
Could we bring about a change again?
Is it ever worth the work?
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Mark McCabe Bristol, UK
Songwriter from the North east of Scotland.
Bristol based.
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