Blue Gold
Santa Fe
Soft Black Heart
The Light in my Eye
She Won't Give Things for Keeps
Caroline
No. 2 Lead
The Gods of Love and War
The Room
Pearl With No String
Vinegar Eyes
Pretty Way to Part


Anticomp Folkilation
The Earth is Black

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Santa Fe
I fell in love with a plate-glass girl.  I road a dove to the underworld.  It's all I need to get a whirl, rip the curls right from my head.  I took a train down to Santa Fe.  I stole a sock but it ran away.  I got a compass to read my name, but then I found my way to bed.  We don't know the world below the one where we laid claim.  Throw away the bread you break, I'm going back to Santa Fe.
 
I told my mom that you ran away.  I called the cops on your wedding day. I kissed a girl and I still felt gay and touched the soft spot of my head.  I struck a chord and I found that spot.  I read my will to a polka dot.  Ain't nothing with what you're not, it's what you want to be instead.  Something's changed, re-arranged, explain all those things you say.  But throw away the bread you break, I'm going back to Santa Fe.
 
I'm coming down and I'm up all night.  I count the bugs on the back porch light.  Their hollow haloes might ignite, if they fly next to the sun.


Soft Black Heart
Cloaked the thinnest layer of his sad and jaundiced skin, hid the hurt that no one knew before him.  Nothing's real and nothing's left that's worth bottling in.  Everything you feel is an illusion.  All the new ways that he saw the world were tortured and debased.  The cult of death he followed wouldn't claim him.  Changing colors on the rainbow to placate his reptile brain, accumulating fears though he couldn't name them.  Chemical skin.  Chemical scars.  He wants to bleed until he cleans out his soft black heart.
 
All those childhood reflections, that he couldn't keep denied, cemented every moment he remembered.  But he left them dangling lightly, like a limb that's dead and dry.  A smoke and mirrored minute to dismember.  He focused to recover things he lost along the way:  a Tom Waits tape, a crooked sense of wonder.  And all the dates and places that he can't commiserate because he's the only one who kept them under chemical skin.  Chemical scars. He's going to bleed until he cleans out his soft black heart
 
He's a ship stuck in a bottle.  He is paint that's never dry.  He's the last one left for last call, counting rounds in running time.


The Light in my Eye
An angel crawled out of her wings and mumbled a prayer to the sky, "Father of mine, why do you sing when you know it's the right time to cry?" "You'll be dead by the break of the morning," he said, "everyone goes at their time." "Find me a field and a stainless steel shield and I'll die with the light in my eye."
 
A child was born in December under the yellow moon's eye.  His father went out on a bender and he didn't come home in the night.  When asked about the man who begot him, he'll certainly tell you a lie, "I don't know his face but I'll be in his place when I die with the light in my eye."
 
My lover peered out from a rainbow.   She brought a bucket of gold to my door.  Her mother won't let her mistakes go but she loved her the day she was born.  Father of morning, remember, the reason I fell from the night.  I don't know how to pray, so I kneel down and say, "Let me die with the light in my eye."


She Won't Give Things for Keeps
She came in from the country on an all night Greyhound ride.  Told me she would work for free or a place to stay the hate night.  She hates the way most people never say what they really mean.  She loves the ones who wander but she don't let them roam free.

She stayed in bed all morning trying to figure out her dreams.  She constantly will wonder until she's tired and asleep.  She played dead in the bath-tub, she wants to keep it clean.  She loves the ones who wander but she don't give things for keep. 
She sings, "twinkle twinkle little star, how come you don't notice just how fucked you really are?  Though you burned out long ago I've seen you from afar, just pretending you're what you seem"

The Priest called up her mother, reconfessed all of her sins.  She walks where no one can find her through all the places that she's been.  She gave up staying out at night and spending time with older men.  She loves the ones who wander, she'll take them for a spin.

While she sings..."twinkle twinkle little star, how come you don't notice just how fucked you really are?  Though you burned out long ago I've seen you from afar, just pretending you're what you seem"


Caroline
Caroline I'm sorry that the world's so real.  Caroline it's just a dart to make your heart congeal.  No this song isn't yours forever it's just yours to sing for a while.  All my life was a lie I told to make the time stand still.  Before the ties began to wind and the arrows I could find fell and fell.  But this world wasn't mine forever, it's just mine to use for a while, though my nows always seem to turn never and I trip over every trial.  Caroline we're falling from ourselves in style.  Just watching time Walk Spanish down the aisle.  No this songs isn't yours forever.  It's just yours to sing for a while.


No. 2 Lead
Morning's white lies, an ironed disguise, dry clean your dreams and a cherry burned tie.  A short coffee black, a two p.m. lull, a way to look back when your stomach is full.  You litter your desk with events to define your success, your failures,and your history by.  Hung a cross by the bed for the bruised road ahead, to sharpen a heart full of number two lead.

You where the rush hour hung on your back.  You plan for the or what it might lack when you eat all your meals at the bar down the block, when your children don't visit the apartment you got.  You wake up alone, but everything alive alive has felt disconnected at least once or twice.  you don't get to be saved, a saint to everyone, a martyr to be claimed, a tattoo on the sun. 

But you talk about the weather and brag about the children, that only come see you while wracking up debt.  Hung a cross by the bed for the bruised road ahead, to sharpen a heart full of number two lead.

All the girls at the bar, they're sure you're a bore, but you know ever last thing about the civil war.  So you curse at the dawn and an overgrown lawn, the neighbors upstairs and their evil young spawn, the job you can't do, and the life you see through, your white picket pules, and the wife that left you.  Hung a cross by the bed for the bruised road ahead, to sharpen a heart full of number two lead.


The Gods of Love and War
She saw a black star rising and ran out of the house.  She swallowed all her diamonds and it tore her tonsils out.  She follows all her losses through the world that light restores.  But she don't believe in Jesus or the gods of love and war. 
 
She likes to play with demons when they offer her the ball.  She spent the night in prison when she went to Arkansas.  She follows the incisions to the bubble of her scars, because she don't believe in living with the gods of love and war.
 
They've slung their bows at her before, she didn't mind the sting.  She sat under an apple tree and wore the devils ring.  She tries so hard to bate me cuz she hates herself much more.  But she's dressed in black she's on her back inside a rented car. 
 
I heard she pierced her tongue, shaved her head and got a new tattoo, she won't fall in love with anyone who can't see the awful truth:  "Alone!!," she tries to tell me "that's all we're waiting for."  No she don't' believe in free will or the gods of love and war
 
She visited her father when he had took to bed.   She held his hand in dying and he held her hand in death.  But every time she crawls back out, I swear she's gone to far.  She don't listen to reason or the gods of love and war.

They've walked her down the aisle before and held her hand to kill.  And though she's in denial, she is idle to their will.  She sent her heart to Venus and both her fists to Mars.  I guess there's no escaping from the gods of love and war.

The Room
This is the room where he laid down to rest much longer than he had expected.  This is the room where his daughter would find his body so cold and neglected. 
 
This is the room where it's hard to explain the feeling that used to inhabit.  This is the room where her father had died so she doesn't like being inside it. 
 
This is the room where he laid down to rest when he found that death is like living in a house, in a room covered up with perfume, where you're haunted and still un-forgiven.


Pearl with No String
I know her melancholy lips and plain pout.  A black hole, she left behind a star she road out.  Bleeding, the end.

She burst on the second day of spring on the moon.  In the stale city air she don't smell doom. 

She spent all her youth on a bit part of hope.  She watched all her friends land the challenging roles. 

She's sick for the day she finally fills the big screen.  Till then she's just another pearl with no string.


Vinegar Eyes
Vinegar eyes staring at the ceiling.  Seen somebody cry but your tears have lost that feeling.  And you're reeling in the bed you never make.  Giving back the diamond rings you used to take.  Sentimental feet walking 'round in circles.  Swearing everyone you meet is only bound to hurt you.  And you're blurting out the truth at every turn.  Collecting all the lessons you should think to learn.  Take out every meal.  Shut in every evening.  She struggled for a while but always wound up breaking even.  She said, "Every time God invents a life, God takes one away"
 
Vinegar eyes staring at the ceiling.  Seen somebody cry but your tears have lost that feeling.  And you're dreaming in the bed you never make.  Giving back the diamond rings you used to say, "I'm gonna take"


Pretty Way to Part
She wears her hair tangled to her lap.  She stares like there's no use coming back.  Such a pretty way to part.

She lured him home, fed him wine and bread.  In short she told him, "the devil's in your head, ain't no good to let near your heart."

He saw her off on a tongue tied plane.  Headed, faited, through the summer rain.  Such a pretty way to part.

She saw God Fall naked from a cloud, he saw smoke trails growing from her crown.  It's the only way to mark time or resistance, pangs of the heart.  Such a pretty way to part.  Just a pretty way to part.

The Earth is Black
We arise all snow white in the morning, with the crusts of our eyes slowly falling.
We woke up with no blood in our hears. Tried to count all out Frankenstein parts.

But the days transfuse and the night's been bled. The earth is black and the sky is red.
It's dripping and dripping all over my head. The earth is black and the sky is red.

All the broken are found in the bottom, all distilled in a bag or a bottle.
That's my face but my body was robbed.  Every good thing is already gone.

But the days transfuse and the night's been bled. The earth is black and the sky is red.
It's dripping and dripping all over my head. The earth is black and the sky is red.

Yeah, they beg and they barter and carry every skin that you sloppily bury.
But they never found anything flawless and you never woke up feeling faultless.

But the days transfuse and the night's been bled. The earth is black and the sky is red.
It's dripping and dripping all over my head. The earth is black and the sky is red.

Yeah, the awful sky's been dripping on me. It's red, it's red, it's burgundy.
It's red, it's red, it's...