1. |
Old Words
03:50
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I learned just like everybody else
That I am made of bone, blood, soft flesh
When I cut myself open in front of you
To prove my heart was pure
Now I'm not so sure
I've swam too far from the shore.
I caught a glimpse when I was young
A shape of this punk to come;
Set adrift on half-truth
A partially-written logbook
Your gift is my curse.
With age it just gets worse.
Sand turns time's hand
And still I don't understand.
Old words that you told me
Always drift away.
Old words that you told me
Haunt me everybody.
You'll never be tired, you'll never grow old
Never lose another fight or write another poem.
You'll never get sick, never be in pain
Never see your loving son's hopeful face again.
You'll never feel the rage, never feel the hate
Never make the same old dumb mistakes again.
And when I breathe deep I'll be incomplete
But I guess I'll always know
What old words meant to me.
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2. |
Gratitude
03:09
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I have never felt the need to breathe as deep as I do now.
I should have grown a thicker skin but then my heart just froze.
They say "you know when you know"
and now's my time to go find peace
in time somewhere out there.
I made plans to marry her out there in Mexico
but then one day in early July I set fire to Holy Days.
They say "you know when you know"
and bitter hearts explode.
I refuse to give in to choices I didn't choose.
Mother dear, you have to know this heart, it will not break.
If I've learned one thing from the suffering
it's that love will heal your hate.
They say "you know when you know"
and now's my time to go.
We must face this sadness alone.
I'll always be grateful.
I'll always be so grateful.
I'll always be so grateful to you.
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3. |
This Is My Rifle
03:00
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Close your eyes and count to thirty
like we're playing hide and seek.
I had hoped I'd never have to tell you
but the outlook's bleak.
We're no longer little boys.
We need wind farms on the hillside.
Born of broken men in an existential mess,
you know I've always had a darkness follow me.
Though there are many like it,
this depression is my own.
I might look alright but I'm struggling tonight.
I just can't wait to get gone,
live to fight another day.
It's a common misconception,
a delusion held up as true.
This is itself not news,
who's delivering the prove?
If I sleep I dream I out-run illusions haunting me.
Though there are many like it,
this depression is my own.
I might look alright but I'm struggling tonight.
I just can't wait to get gone,
live to fight another day.
Celebrating life in my own way.
Don't waste your time every time you pray.
If you're chasing light,
live for today.
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4. |
Father's Day
03:27
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Tragical History Tour Dundee, UK
Blood, sweat and tears acoustic country/folk/punk from Scotland.
"...like
Leatherface covering Leadbelly" - BBC Introducing
“gritty Scottish Americana...irresistibly combines sadness, confession and hope” - Shout Louder
"...a vocal with about as much growl as I've heard" - PunkOnline
... more
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