1. |
The Imperfectionist 1
02:16
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I hope to share a brain one day
With a friend I could call home
Policed by the fireflies
Engined by their own
Sense of possibility
Breaking all their bones
To carry across a hue
They carry not alone
I hope to find someone some day
And trade them half a lobe
To see what they thought and think what they did
And maybe we'd grow old
In apartments across the street
Showing out our windows
Paintings that compete
Where is my own to hold
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2. |
Enduring During
03:55
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Make a joke out of irony and a fool out of god
A flower out of entropy and a tool out of law
Cause we don't know what to do
And we won't know this tongue or groove
Color drains from the moon to pockets of black holes
Fists full of mercy won't explain this prose
How lame how lame do we have to be to fall
But how strange it was to have been anything at all
Face facts
We can't all be friends
We know
That up until the end
The hue will carry us over
Through the winds of red
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3. |
This Kid
02:10
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This kid is going to melt me
Kissing a corner of the smoothest table
Patrons sleeping quietly
And the favorites blinking watching here
This kid finds solace
Within the scratches and dots
Colorless colors
Were never seeded in these spots
It's been dark where she lives
And she needs a sunny day
So she spends her nights drawing moons away
Planting seeds between the twigs
This kid has got some dreams i guess
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4. |
Easy Does It
02:56
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A blush in love is a brush in red
Leaving semitones on the side of your head
A single blank space just won't do
Filling white up with a white residue
A single empty face just won't do
And sky doesn't always have to be blue at dawn
But gardens can't survive under this light
Darwin's gonna be pissed and put up a fight
Instead of bringing down the sailcloth
Its steady come the fingerprints to do the job
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5. |
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After the days of poets in bars
Hippies with guitars
And keyboards with colored keys
Are beatniks in business suits
Eating beige tinted fruits
Tasting the way it does when red's not a thing
Before the tin lives
And their little tin wives
Were clanking cogs from the beginning
There were alibis in fingers
And the little things they did here
And the subtle sounds of you breathing
You found lines in the sand
From a stick in your hand
Attached to the soul and mind of a friend
Who is long passed away
In this great garden of apes
Hurricaned in with no means to an end
And you don't know why
And you don't know when
All you know is what you've been told
All you know is what you know
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6. |
Corrosion
02:50
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Bullets in maps from a pinch hit
Rogue bristles and Jazz III picks
The earth doesn't even flinch
Moth in flames from a henchman
Tentatively causing tension
This wave you so want to drink
Rock in throat from a past trip
Soaking up just every drip
Tasting of our broken lips
Walk it off Kirk to Spock stop the clock shock and awe chalk it up if you're loving this
Chalk it up to loving this
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7. |
Word Ink
03:44
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Its glass teeth are glass so we can see what it said
Its paper hands are barely covering its head
Just enough to grate us in a perfectly wrong way
Forgot the color of her eyes with paper in the way
You're in New York city and the city's been a bitch
Holding back in hormones and instigating itch
Its finger prints are origami built to be low tide
Tattooed on the sand with no chance to dry
Its chest is heaving breaths and a wordsmith's projection
Its god is not as tall as you may have expected
Its in the garden tasting its all time favorite dish
Investigating taste buds and rewarding the snitch
There's something in the way right now or so it seems
To hear the chorus in its head would make me happy
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8. |
Naked
01:59
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She writes her music naked
Draws pictures when she's bored
Moons of another color
They remind her of another
She never met before
Scratching pen on paper
Preserving the perfect tone
Details and points exclaimed
Her perfect fingers perfectly to blame
Stops to admire herself
Imagines different kinds of blue
Peers into shadings of the crater
Losing herself in the greatest
Thought she's ever known
And she sits there forever
Like la de freakin' da
Not finishing another word
Her perfect world imperfectly preserved
Not a dot lives alone
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9. |
The Imperfectionist 2
03:02
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Been bending clocks to waste some time
And trimming trees with turpentine
Folding leaves from paper swans
And pasting wings into my sweating palms
Been showing curves for a while now
And squares circled into a pile now
Of skeletons that look you in the eye
And open bellies on display now don't be shy
Been building blocks to build some lives
And filling lungs with underlines
And the beat in myself says
Where is the reprise in your eyes
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10. |
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Dance while you burn with me
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11. |
The Imperfectionist 3
02:17
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Paper folks laughing to the tickle of an ink
Rationed from their chests to an eye in a blink
Blanks circled lined and dotted, indented in their cheeks
Plain as day on their face they never have to speak
Paper folks dancing to the glow of fire flies
Secrets from their pockets to a breath in the sky
Timber floors and faces lost in translation
Fast reacting feet fail to save them
Dance while it burns with me
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