| War All The Time - 2003 | |
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For The Workforce, Drowning
Falling from the top floor your lungs
fill like parachutes
windows go rushing by.
people inside,
dressed for the funeral in black and white.
These ties strangle our necks, hanging in the closet,
found in the cubicle;
without a name, just numbers, on the resume stored in the mainframe, marked for delete.
please take these hands
throw them in the river,
wash away the things they never held
please take these hands,
throw me in the river,
don’t let me drown before the workday ends.
9 to 5! 9 to 5!
and we’re up to our necks,
drowning in the seconds,
ingesting the morning commute
lost in a dead subway sleep
we will not lie awake in our parents beds,
tossing and turning.
tomorrow we’ll get up
drive to work,
single file
with everyday
it’s like the last.
waiting for the life to start, is it always just ahead of the curve?
please take these hands
throw them in the river,
wash away the things they never held
please take these hands,
throw me in the river,
don’t let me drown before the workday ends.
just keep making copies
of copies
of copies
when will it end?
it’ll never end,
’til it gets so bad
that the ink fills in our fingerprints
and the silouhette of your own face becomes the black cloud of war
and even in our dreams we’re so afraid the way we’ll offset who we are
all those breaths that you took have now been canceled in your lungs.
last night my teeth fell out like ivory typewriter keys
and all the monuments and skyscrapers burned down and filled the sea.
save our ship
the anchor is part of the desk
we can’t cut free,
the water is flooding the decks
the memo’s sent through the currents
computers spark like flares
i can see them.
they don’t touch me,
touch me.
please someone,
teach me how to swim.
please, don’t let me drown,
please, don’t let me drown.
(rupture) rupture the wall around my heart without a second opinion (rupture) rupture the wall around my heart we’re coming to the capitol [x2] (love), now its too late these are the words that escape from our lungs, Division St. Lights out on Division Street Lights out on Division Street Lights out on Division Street To dance between the scissor’s blades Between the footsteps I hear crickets in the trees
the signals that we send over the air when you say my name, is this how it feels when you say my name, there’s no where to hide. if i keep holding my breath, all of this will fade away. when you say (when you say) my name (when you say my name), there’s no where to hide. Marches and Menuvers (the taste of your kerosine lips burn me up) this is a war we live in. now we’re up in arms (up in arms) (the taste of your kerosine lips burn me up) this is our war this is a war if we trip each other into this, one part loss, one part no sleep, one part the gun shot we heard,
and we’re praying since we can’t compete with martyred saints, ‘white light, white heat’ we’ll make wake up!! wake up in an outline and try to speak and we’re praying someday we’ll be complete like modern saints, ‘red rain, red rain’ we’ll make they ring for you. we woke up this morning to a sky with no erring they are the symptoms of letting go of all our hope… This Song Brought To You By A Falling Bomb but the footsteps are getting louder, this song has been brought to you by a falling bomb.
the wolves are closing in. freeze the frame the wolves are closing in. I ran down the stairs War All The Time War all of the time War all of the time War all of the time War all the time War all the time
between lines if the whole world dies, So we hold our breathe and fold our hands, Kill all the house lights. with the butterfly and the scare crow, Tomorrow I’ll Be You how long can the wheels maintain a spin, on every block, the miles are adding up of New Year’s Day. that’s the sound of music from another room sit back and tune to the broadcast. as the language dissolves …but tomorrow I’ll be you. I’m calling from your house,
in the veins of the ultraviolet light,
the phosphor is starting a fire
shooting up in the iodine;
its turning on
i feel so lost,
i’ve been shaking. you can’t save me
(forget what the doctor said)
every bird in mid-flight is calling out your name
before it hits the window and it sings the rapture
the chemicals saturate
to counteract the code
through the double-helix we are twisting
(too scared to let this go)
someone call the head nurse
she’s coming to the capitol
to wrap us up and throw us in the dirt, with a dream thats turning off
i feel so lost,
i’ve been shaking. you can’t save me
(forget what the doctor said)
every bird in mid-flight is calling out your name
before it hits the window and it sings the rapture
the distance between us will rupture
(coming to the capitol)
in our hearts the disease won’t touch us
(coming to the capitol)
(love), to turn this off
alone is all we are
even when we feel this close
it’s just a lie we believe
rupture the wall i’ve built around my heart
i’ve been shaking
you can’t save me
i’m turning off
we can’t find a way
out of this moment
were lost in a dark hallway
Lights out on Division Street
and all the hate that rises
through the cracks in the pavement,
as the temperature falls.
(This is where is hits the ground)
I’m repeating
Goodbye to the memories,
(the fever that will not break)
the night is pouring down,
it’s not enough to put this out,
i’ll burn up before i wake up.
(on Division Street)
This is serious,
This is serious,
If this is serious
I’ll hide my heart in dark parades.
I held you tight like an empty bottle…
But the glass broke
(and the poison spilled out of your mouth)
Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?
The house turned black and sat in silence
(while a mockingbird sang)
lalalalalala, listen to yourself
go on and on, as if you spoke to someone else.
I’m repeating
Goodbye to the memories,
(the fever that will not break)
the night is pouring down,
its not enough to put this out,
i’ll burn up before i wake up.
(on Division Street)
This is serious,
This is serious,
If this is serious
I’ll hide my heart in dark parades.
without getting cut.
I drew an X on your city’s name
LIGHTS OUT. BLACK OUT. BLOW OUT THE CANDLE AGAIN.
spin the room around
FALL DOWN. PASS OUT. GET UP. I CAN’T KEEP REPEATING.
a silent army marching with me through a swarm of bees
a needle dragged across a record slowing down
along Division St. the lights were dying out
endless rows of houses stretched on for miles and miles and miles…
TURN THE WINDOWS BLACK
Lights out on Division Street
repeating (repeat it)
Lights out on Division Street
repeating, (turn the windows black)
lights out. lights out. lights out.
turn the windows black
la la la la la la
listen to yourself.
this is what you see when you look in my direction:
incandescent corsets draw eyes tight like wires.
this is how it feels,
calling out but no one even hears
over the air
over the air
over the air.
i want to split it from your lips
and hide like whispers in the rain.
when you say (when you say) my name (when you say it)
i want to stop it in your lungs
and collect all of your blood to put in the radio.
when you dont even fit into your own skin?
and its getting tighter,
every day i’m getting smaller
if i keep holding my breath i’m going to disappear.
i want to split it from your lips
and hide like whispers in the rain.
when you say (when you say) my name (when you say it)
i want to stop it in your lungs
and collect all of your blood to put in the radio.
they stole the love from our lives to put the sex on the radio.
there’s no where to hide.
they stole the love from our lives to put the sex on.
if you keep driving we’ll be lying in the wreck.
changing the shape,
folding like an envelope to keep each other in.
shattered glass, broken looks, and mascara gets
washed away by windshield wiper blades
safe, safe
i want to split it from your lips
and hide like whispers in the rain.
when you say (when you say) my name (my name)
i want to stop it in your lungs
and collect all of your blood to put in the radio.
they stole the love from our lives to put the sex on the radio.
there’s no where to hide.
they stole the love from our lives to put the sex on the radio.
that’s where we hide
the love and lies and sex, on the radio.
this is a war we live and the sides are drawn (the sides are drawn).
and we’re all wrapped up in fatigues and they wear us out (wear us out).
there is a storm at sea.
if we fly a white flag under a black and blue sky, will the red sun rise?
if we fly a white flag under a black and blue sky, will the red sun rise?
rise, glare from your enemy sights make me go blind/blinds
divide the sunlight into thin strips, the size of a blade, in this trench that we dig for ourselves.
fourscore and fade. glare with the enemy heat of the bodies in the bed. no retreat.
with our heads pressed against the wall and it’s wearing thin (and wearing thin).
these are the screams we swallow,
if we fly a white flag under a black and blue sky, will the red sun rise?
if we fly a white flag under a black and blue sky, will the red sun rise?
rise, the glare from your enemy sights make me go blind
administer the pill (keep fighting)
before the cell divides (keep marching)
we’ll both go down like toy soldiers.
threats and picket lines (keep fighting)
are forming around our beds (keep marching)
and the landmines in our chests will all go off in time.
do you think we’ll find a way out?
we’ve synthesized a compound to treat this conscience, it’s:
one part the screams mistaken for laughter, one part everything after,
one part love, one part stepping out of the driving rain,
one part parting ways, in the cold apartment. don’t look back,
just keep running down the stairs. do you hear the footsteps?
can you hear voices in the traffic, communiques in the attic?
they say, after time, all this will heal,
we will rebuild and these broken arms will mend themselves in our embrace.
three chalk outlines sleep in the dirty street
and in our beds, under the sheets,
they’re the halo of guilt hanging around your neck,
next to the rosary you count, falling asleep
these are the symptoms of letting go of all our hope.
we’ll douse ourselves in gasoline
and hang our bodies from the lampposts
so that our shadows turn into bright lights
as we’re blacking out in the center lane,
(we swerve) to the beat, (spill) all the ink
(no revisions) do you hear the church bells ringing?
with the shattered voice of the lives we lead…
have we slept too long
between the bullet holes in a stained-glass window state?
these are the symptoms of letting go of all our hope.
(when we repent)
and we’re praying
(we fall on the page, read in the margins)
we are the symptoms of letting go of all our hope.
baptize our kids in gasoline
and hang our doubts up in cathedrals
so that they turn to faith in the colored sunlight.
as we’re blacking out in the center lane,
(we swerve) to the beat, (spill) all the ink,
(no revisions) do you hear the church bells ringing?
and all the streets are filled with a thousand burning crosses
and what we thought was the sunrise, just passing headlights
still the choir girls sing, ‘oh lord, can you save us? oh lord, sing hallelujah’
we’re falling asleep with open eyes
falling asleep inside the chapel
falling asleep in chalk outlines
falling asleep as the headlights pass us by…
do you hear the jet plane
yawning miles across the sky?
hear the garbage truck
back down the boulevard,
setting off the car alarms as it passes by?
do you hear the static
of one thousand detuned radios?
shut the window, love.
keep the world outside.
I don’t want to think about anyone
drowning out the sound of the rain,
as it knocks on the windowsill.
I’m not answering the phone - let it ring.
lately I’ve been feeling like
a falling bomb.
the ground is getting closer
and the sky
is falling
down.
this song has been brought to you
by a falling bomb.
steps ascend to a loaded gun.
the scent of matches hangs in the air
(a lit one flickers out in a hearbeat).
we don’t want to see this:
a flash of light that’s letting go
of an empty bullet case,
by the time it hits the ground,
he’s out of reach. (let go, let go.)
out of reach. (let go, let go.)
out of reach. (let go, let go.)
out of reach. (let go, let go.)
out of reach
there’s no room left to make amends, but
do you remember when we’d fly that kite so high?
all the time we’ve wasted,
spent fighting,
will burn
in the fire of our regrets
all the time we’ve wasted,
spent fighting,
it’s blood
and it’s running down the stairs.
between the gun shot and the hole it makes.
a spinning bullet hangs in the middle.
there’s no way to stop it,
it will surely hit the mark
you can try to understand
but I’m giving up.
giving up.
giving up.
the synapse fires, it’s right in time.
I’m giving up.
giving up.
giving up.
this should always stay
out of reach. (let go, let go.)
out of reach. (let go, let go.)
out of reach. (let go, let go.)
out of reach. (let go, let go.)
there’s no room left to make amends, but
do you remember when we’d fly that kite so high?
all the time we’ve wasted,
spent fighting,
will burn
in the fire of our regrets
all the time we’ve wasted,
spent fighting,
it’s blood
and it’s running down the stairs.
and into the garden,
put both my hands into the soil.
in the spring,
you will bloom,
like her heart,
through the blouse,
in the back of the ambulance,
as it turned and turned down the street
(one more turn won’t you come back to me?)
as it turned on its red lights,
you were turning into
red roses, red roses, red roses, red roses
but I’m not giving up.
Standing on the edge of the palisades cliffs
In the shadow of the skyline very far away
A lightning rod that couldnt pull the storm from me
I was 5 years old my best friends older brother died
He fell from these cliffs
The river washed him away the current pulled him downstream
And our lives float in the headlines, so we parked these cars
Parent?s garage
Listen to the lullaby
Of Carbon Monoxide
In the shadow of the New York skyline
We grew up too fast falling apart
Like the ashes of American flags
If the sun doesn’t rise
We’ll replace it with an H-bomb explosion
A painted jail cell of blood in the sky like Three Mile Island
Nightmares on TV they used to sing us to sleep
They burn on and on like an oil field
Or a memory of what it felt like
To burn on and on and not just fade away
All those nights in the basement the kids are still screaming
On and on and on and on
In the shadow of the New York skyline
We grew up too fast falling apart
Like the ashes of American flags
And we?re blowing in the wind
We don?t know where to land
So we kiss like little kids
We used to be very tall buildings
We?ve been falling for so long
Now your eyes follow the sign on the edge of town
They offer a welcome when you are leaving
In the shadow of the New York skyline
We grew up too fast falling apart
Like the ashes of American flags
The pieces fall it?s like a last day parade
And the fires in our streets start to rage,
so wave, to the people that long to wave back,
from the fabric of a flag that sang “love all of the time”
All of the time
War all the time
War all the time
All of the time
All of the time
War all of the time
War all of the time
War all of the time
War all of the time
The stage is set to rip the wings from a butterfly,
the stage is set,
don’t forget to breathe,
then it’s safe to take the stage,
these graves will stretch
like landing on strips - hospitals: all the dead museums, we won’t have to be afraid anymore.
The crowd is growing silent with the gathering storm.
When the curtain falls and you’re caught on the other side (just trying to keep up the act),
we’ll lie in the back of black cars,
with the windows rolled up,
joining the precession of emptiness,
if we say these words,
it will be too late to take them back.
like paper planes (and we’re going to crash)
We don’t have to be alone ever again.
There’s a riot in the theatre.
Someone’s standing the aisle, yelling that the murderers are everywhere and they’re lining up,
carving M in your side.
Pull the curtains back.
Pin the dress lotus flowers. The silk is spinning around and around,
with the ceiling fan.
I’m disappearing into the spotlight.
I’m on display,
with smiles like picket fences, you tie us all up and leave us outside.
“That voice is silent now and the boat has sunk…”
We’re on our own but we’re not going to run.
in the circuit, the frequency’s breaking up.
the speakers can barely move
this is not a test
tune to the broadcast.
witness the jetlag.
look in the mirror.
adjust the V-hold.
shatter the lens.
pull out the shards.
choke on her words,
caught in your throat.
at this velocity?
a reminder:
you can’t stop this intersection.
at every turn,
dead forests of tenements rise
like antennas.
and the days are counting down.
cut the jet black from my hair
before we’re bathed in the dawn
I will change back to myself
in the flame,
we burn like the paper hearts of
dead presidents.
we’re too lost,
to lose hope.
maybe the night seems so dark
because the day
is much too bright
for us to see that we are cured.
we are cured
(shatter the lens. pull out the shards)
we are cured.
we are cured
(choke on her words, caught in your throat)
the piano player hangs from piano wire
but the player piano carries on.
witness the jet lag
shatter the lens.
pull out the shards.
choke on her words,
caught in your throat.
this is not a test
this is not a test
shatter the lens.
pull out the shards.
choke on her words,
caught in your throat.
and the sentence lifts,
a slow alphabet of rain is whispering,
“aabcttipacbdefg…”
since I replaced the I in live with an O,
I can’t remember who you are…
just pick up the phone.
in your room,
in your name,
lying in your bed,
following your dreams.
I listen to your voice
get caught in my throat
as I sing,
“This Is Just A Dream.”
on New Year’s Day,
we will change back to ourselves.
in the flame
we are cured.
we are cured.
we are cured.
