1. |
Something Familiar
04:05
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give me winter, give me colder weather
amber poison on my tongue’s receptors
a cold wind for my skin, warm whiskey for my insides,
warm my heart
‘cause it’s December so give me that cold weather
a modest glass of that golden liquid splendor
sentimental conversations with my friends in the places
that we’ve known, we’ve loved, and we’ve shared
for all these years
let’s sit and hear the sun sink down,
then listen to the Gaslight’s sound
singing songs about stories so close
to my heart so that I don’t feel so alone
and ones about how that moon and those stars
will capture our hearts
yeah it’s a sound that crackles
through these here speakers now
singing we’re too goddamned young right now
to be carrying such heavy heads
so if you’re too tired my brother,
I’ll take that wheel instead
so you can sleep tonight,
brother can you sleep tonight?
And find a place to rest your,
rest your heavy head.
hey can you hear those songs
crackling through the speakers?
and does it lead you to a
sound that’s so familiar?
so bring December, yeah bring that colder weather
a gaslight to make my sight a little clearer
when those dark clouds roll on in
and the sun begins to sink, sundown
and maybe then we can all get together
around that place where the light’s a little golder
and capture for future eyes
a polaroid picture
yeah a polaroid picture
for when we feel a little stranger
as those gaps just grow on longer
for when we see one another.
and then 5 years feels like forever.
for when you wanna remember
the way we looked when we were younger.
and how we held ourselves together
in those incandescent winters.
for when our hearts
yearn for some...
something familiar.
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2. |
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Don’t break too many hearts.
Don’t take too many arrows in the chest.
Cry comfortably, let us all know what you're thinking.
Is there a gesture I could use to clearly express
I’m at an utter loss for words?
Is there a part of you that's torn? That’s larger than life?
That’ll hold on for one more night?
I’ve got a speech to make.
Followed by a big parade.
Northside. Closed eyes.
All charades go on forever.
Hands tied with fool’s pride.
In a slowly fleeing summer.
Just throw your hands up at the sky.
No use trying to explain this.
The clouds are mirrors. I’m disguised.
I’m not all that entertaining.
The city looks the same
Until you notice smaller changes.
It still knows us all by name.
It holds us close to its heart
It holds us close to its heart
All my hopes are unaligned.
This diagnosis is self-designed.
Northside. Dead eyes.
All charades go on forever.
Hands tied with past lives.
In a slowly fleeing summer.
Empty rooms don't have pictures to talk to.
Brick wall views demand uninspired afternoons.
The days are flooding into months.
The nights are staring into centuries.
I’ve got some older pictures
Of people I see once every couple years.
Intrigued or unamazed.
"You were so much different back in those days."
And now this smile has a bitter curve.
Now these eyes are unenchanted.
And all we see is a faded image of what we used to be.
How can we relate?
When we don't know a thing about each other anymore?
Is there a gesture I could use to clearly express
I’m at an utter loss for words.
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Revisionists Austin, Texas
I wear my influences on my sleeve and I hope it comes out in the music. I know what I like and aspire to write like the bands and songwriters that inspire me while at the same time putting my own personal stamp on the music. In the words of Frank Turner, "I know I don't break new ground, many have travelled this sound, but I try to make it sound like home..." ... more
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