Photo by Uygar Kilic on Unsplash.
I’m only calling to say I won;
I wiped the sweat out of my eyes
And stood there in the spotlight for a while.
If you could have seen everyone,
Bewildered beasts’ small-town surprise
You might’ve even cracked a smile.
And they will use my name in town tonight, if not tomorrow –
So stay where glory lets me down, cast a light against the sorrow
And say I make you proud.
The field behind the parking lot
Urges me to disappear
Abandoning the praise that I adore.
I don’t know if it’s right or not;
The hole in me that we both fear,
I hear it calling out for more and more and more…
But they will use my name in town, tonight, if not tomorrow –
So stay; where glory lets me down, cast a light against the sorrow
And say I make you proud.
And are you sick of the call?
Of me pretending I wish I was there?
I don’t want to be here either, after all,
Bleeding love into the hot summer air,
I don’t want to be here either, after all,
But it’s easier than the despair
So I’m just calling to say that I won.
I wiped the sweat out of my eyes
And stood there in the spotlight for a while.
If you could have seen everyone,
Bewildered beasts’ small-town surprise
You might’ve even cracked a smile.
And they will use my name in town tonight, if not tomorrow –
So stay where glory lets me down, cast a light against the sorrow
And say I make you proud.
The field behind the parking lot
Urges me to disappear
Abandoning the praise that I adore.
I don’t know if it’s right or not;
The hole in me that we both fear,
I hear it calling out for more and more and more…
But they will use my name in town, tonight, if not tomorrow –
So stay; where glory lets me down, cast a light against the sorrow
And say I make you proud.
And are you sick of the call?
Of me pretending I wish I was there?
I don’t want to be here either, after all,
Bleeding love into the hot summer air,
I don’t want to be here either, after all,
But it’s easier than the despair
So I’m just calling to say that I won.
Photo by Lians Jadan on Unsplash
I spent a thousand years just sitting on your bed
But nothing lasts forever, despite what you have said,
And nothing will be all right
I roll another six - a winner wins, they say,
While a widow buys a razor and I look the other way
And nothing will be all right
And a ghost draws me from the crowd
To rise up like the son of glory,
Son of glory
But it’s late; I’m too broken to be proud
And no one needs to hear this story,
Tired story
Now we’re all doing the dance, and I guess that the man leads,
It’s a bloody trap recording, and Jesus, the snare bleeds
And nothing will be all right
So, you take it like a man, you tell them who you are,
The error apparent, but still the rising star
And nothing will be all right
And a ghost calls me from the ball
To rise up like the son of glory,
Son of glory
Am I not meant to doubt at all,
And just star in this tired story?
Tired story
I’m not really honest, I’ve just got the loudest speech
I’ve got pain and loss, but I’m borrowing each
And the soapbox that lifts me was built by bloody hands -
Oh, everyone beneath me understands
And all the freedom we looked for
We were always told to lock away
Well I haven’t found it anyway
Anyway…
A ghost asks for this last dance
To rise up like the son of glory,
Son of glory
But why keep giving peace a chance?
No one needs to hear this story.
But nothing lasts forever, despite what you have said,
And nothing will be all right
I roll another six - a winner wins, they say,
While a widow buys a razor and I look the other way
And nothing will be all right
And a ghost draws me from the crowd
To rise up like the son of glory,
Son of glory
But it’s late; I’m too broken to be proud
And no one needs to hear this story,
Tired story
Now we’re all doing the dance, and I guess that the man leads,
It’s a bloody trap recording, and Jesus, the snare bleeds
And nothing will be all right
So, you take it like a man, you tell them who you are,
The error apparent, but still the rising star
And nothing will be all right
And a ghost calls me from the ball
To rise up like the son of glory,
Son of glory
Am I not meant to doubt at all,
And just star in this tired story?
Tired story
I’m not really honest, I’ve just got the loudest speech
I’ve got pain and loss, but I’m borrowing each
And the soapbox that lifts me was built by bloody hands -
Oh, everyone beneath me understands
And all the freedom we looked for
We were always told to lock away
Well I haven’t found it anyway
Anyway…
A ghost asks for this last dance
To rise up like the son of glory,
Son of glory
But why keep giving peace a chance?
No one needs to hear this story.
Photo by Nikolay Vorobyev on Unsplash
A grail at the edge of dawn,
A monster you sing to sleep;
But they don't count as currency here,
These promises you try to keep
I think I'm ready to lay down,
I think I'm ready to lay down,
My wooden sword and my clay crown.
Are you ready to lay down?
Are you ready to take the mirage anyway,
Set it in your sights?
'Cause out here, there is nothing else to do
And don't you blame the system now, it drives with no headlights
And, after all, either one of these horrible options could work for you!
You strap yourself to the mast
To hear the sirens pine.
Well, I can give you pain if you want it
But keep your hands off of mine!
And Scylla's coming, so be brave!
A beggar king and a free slave,
We miss the meaning that we crave.
Are you ready to lay down?
Are you ready to take the mirage anyway, set it in your sights?
'Cause out here, there is nothing else to do
And don't you blame the system now, it drives with no headlights
And, after all, either one of these horrible options could work for you!
A monster you sing to sleep;
But they don't count as currency here,
These promises you try to keep
I think I'm ready to lay down,
I think I'm ready to lay down,
My wooden sword and my clay crown.
Are you ready to lay down?
Are you ready to take the mirage anyway,
Set it in your sights?
'Cause out here, there is nothing else to do
And don't you blame the system now, it drives with no headlights
And, after all, either one of these horrible options could work for you!
You strap yourself to the mast
To hear the sirens pine.
Well, I can give you pain if you want it
But keep your hands off of mine!
And Scylla's coming, so be brave!
A beggar king and a free slave,
We miss the meaning that we crave.
Are you ready to lay down?
Are you ready to take the mirage anyway, set it in your sights?
'Cause out here, there is nothing else to do
And don't you blame the system now, it drives with no headlights
And, after all, either one of these horrible options could work for you!
Photo by Paul Green on Unsplash
See, it’s easy;
The wanted posters smile –
This is my face as it should be.
A distant speaker
Says, “Don’t you touch that dial,
Just find your way to me”
And, oh, I step back into the ring
My face was on the cover of the whole damn thing.
And you can learn your lines, but I’m
Not your role of a lifetime.
But the night sickens,
My words all fall apart;
How we starve for clarity!
And here the script says,
“Come sell your broken heart –
This is your face as it should be!”
But, oh, I step back into the ring
My face was on the cover of the whole damn thing
And you can learn your lines, but I’m
Not your role of a lifetime.
So now the city is ice,
And the sidewalk’s a blur,
You’re sobbing for me
And I’m thinking of her.
There’s a hole in the heart
Of the things that we love
That I don’t think we’ll rise above.
So, here’s a pearl of loss
For you to polish and weigh
As you feed me a line
That you know I can’t say.
So, don’t ask me for hope
Don’t toy with your nerve
You will not get what you deserve.
So save your mercy, your mercy
For your starring role
Save your mercy, your mercy
For your howling soul
So now the city is ice,
And the world’s a waste;
The sun’s going down,
Betrayed and disgraced.
And lying won’t help,
So nobody needs me.
This is my face as it should be.
The wanted posters smile –
This is my face as it should be.
A distant speaker
Says, “Don’t you touch that dial,
Just find your way to me”
And, oh, I step back into the ring
My face was on the cover of the whole damn thing.
And you can learn your lines, but I’m
Not your role of a lifetime.
But the night sickens,
My words all fall apart;
How we starve for clarity!
And here the script says,
“Come sell your broken heart –
This is your face as it should be!”
But, oh, I step back into the ring
My face was on the cover of the whole damn thing
And you can learn your lines, but I’m
Not your role of a lifetime.
So now the city is ice,
And the sidewalk’s a blur,
You’re sobbing for me
And I’m thinking of her.
There’s a hole in the heart
Of the things that we love
That I don’t think we’ll rise above.
So, here’s a pearl of loss
For you to polish and weigh
As you feed me a line
That you know I can’t say.
So, don’t ask me for hope
Don’t toy with your nerve
You will not get what you deserve.
So save your mercy, your mercy
For your starring role
Save your mercy, your mercy
For your howling soul
So now the city is ice,
And the world’s a waste;
The sun’s going down,
Betrayed and disgraced.
And lying won’t help,
So nobody needs me.
This is my face as it should be.
Photo by Who's Denilo? on Unsplash.
Charge admission, hang plaques and try
To make my wreckage a museum.
Classic romantic, in ruins, I
Column like I coliseum.
A satellite glides above the walls
That my ivy used to climb.
A satellite glides above the walls;
I see it all the time.
What does it mean?
Well, I was bored again, is that a mortal sin?
What can we glean?
The ocean roared again, and I dove on in.
Am I making a mark
Here in the dark,
Carving letters on my skin?
I know you wanted to find shelter here
Where my rooves have all caved in,
But I have habits, there are storms, and, dear,
I will lock you out when they begin.
A satellite glides above the walls
my ivy used to climb.
A satellite glides above the dust;
I see it all the time.
What does it mean?
Well, I was bored again, is that my mortal sin?
What can we glean?
The ocean roared, and, man, I dove on in,
Now I’m soaked to the bone,
Drunk and alone,
Carving letters on my skin.
What does it mean?
To make my wreckage a museum.
Classic romantic, in ruins, I
Column like I coliseum.
A satellite glides above the walls
That my ivy used to climb.
A satellite glides above the walls;
I see it all the time.
What does it mean?
Well, I was bored again, is that a mortal sin?
What can we glean?
The ocean roared again, and I dove on in.
Am I making a mark
Here in the dark,
Carving letters on my skin?
I know you wanted to find shelter here
Where my rooves have all caved in,
But I have habits, there are storms, and, dear,
I will lock you out when they begin.
A satellite glides above the walls
my ivy used to climb.
A satellite glides above the dust;
I see it all the time.
What does it mean?
Well, I was bored again, is that my mortal sin?
What can we glean?
The ocean roared, and, man, I dove on in,
Now I’m soaked to the bone,
Drunk and alone,
Carving letters on my skin.
What does it mean?
Photo by Juan Giraudo on Unsplash
Freedom's bells
Ring out across the liquor store parking lot
Drying wells
And shallow answers bring us back to this same spot
This town's getting smaller,
It's closing 'round my brain,
I've got a blue collar
On an iron chain.
Our empty shells
Wait like fate by the door to act out this tragic plot.
They call it poverty, it's looking more and more like a business
Tell me brother, do you ever get sick of forgiveness?
Rise up - I hear the factory call my name,
Everybody 'round here's been bound in shame;
Lot boys with no direction
Wise up - I don't care who you blame,
All the dealers and preachers are staking their claim
I'm sick of good intentions,
I'm sick of good intentions
I sang my song,
And I swore to the moon, and danced in an awkward glee;
I felt so strong,
'til the whims of the world came and carried me
So here I make my stand,
The tide is rising high,
A king might understand –
A fool would have to try
Is it so wrong
To hate the man I'm supposed to be?
They say it's normal, and there's always a prescription
I'd take the adder over the addiction
Rise up - hear the factory call my name,
Everybody 'round here's been bound in shame;
Lost boys with no direction
Wise up - I don't care who you blame,
All the dealers and preachers are staking their claim
I'm sick of good intentions,
I'm sick of good intentions
Photo by Steven Lewis on Unsplash.
I watch you tiptoe toward the edge of your mind
On your high wire, and the height scares me blind
Your suitors call out, but you’ll stay ‘til you find
More than this, oh, more than this
Take it easy, now, maybe it will pass,
The fog through which we all watch the hourglass
If you want passion, then you’ll have to surpass
More than this, oh, more than this
Come on, I’m open
Come on, I’m open
When you were young, it was all so intense,
Your first heartbreak, your last innocence,
Cutting the wire, you say ‘why experience
More of this? Oh, more of this?’
Come on, I’m open
Come on, I’m open
Sitting alone outside the Freedom Motel,
I listen to the lonely wind sigh.
We had our bloody revolution and, well,
Somehow I thought that it would buy
More than this, oh, more than this
So come on, I’m open
On your high wire, and the height scares me blind
Your suitors call out, but you’ll stay ‘til you find
More than this, oh, more than this
Take it easy, now, maybe it will pass,
The fog through which we all watch the hourglass
If you want passion, then you’ll have to surpass
More than this, oh, more than this
Come on, I’m open
Come on, I’m open
When you were young, it was all so intense,
Your first heartbreak, your last innocence,
Cutting the wire, you say ‘why experience
More of this? Oh, more of this?’
Come on, I’m open
Come on, I’m open
Sitting alone outside the Freedom Motel,
I listen to the lonely wind sigh.
We had our bloody revolution and, well,
Somehow I thought that it would buy
More than this, oh, more than this
So come on, I’m open
Photo by Florian Stecuik on Unsplash.
A man on the hill
Is writing God's will;
The children stand in line to play in his charade.
They say revolution's in the air
The ladies do their hair
And somewhere in my exhaust, history is made
But I don't trust us when we're so afraid
You've got 3 exits to prove you're mine
You've got 10 miles to toe the line
You've got one chance to prove who's side you're on
You've got 12 minutes to make a choice:
A deaf world or the poet's voice
Carving some truth from this ephemeron
You've got 3 exits until I am gone
My life is unwinding,
The headlights are blinding,
And I've abandoned more dreams than I care to say.
You've got a heart - keep it clean
These leather and gasoline
Dreams won't fulfill you, just drive you farther away
With all the love we had yesterday
You've got 3 exits to prove you're mine
You've got 10 miles to toe the line
You've got one chance to prove who's side you're on
You've got 12 minutes to make a choice:
A deaf world or the poet's voice
Carving some truth from this ephemeron
You've got 3 exits until I am gone
Is writing God's will;
The children stand in line to play in his charade.
They say revolution's in the air
The ladies do their hair
And somewhere in my exhaust, history is made
But I don't trust us when we're so afraid
You've got 3 exits to prove you're mine
You've got 10 miles to toe the line
You've got one chance to prove who's side you're on
You've got 12 minutes to make a choice:
A deaf world or the poet's voice
Carving some truth from this ephemeron
You've got 3 exits until I am gone
My life is unwinding,
The headlights are blinding,
And I've abandoned more dreams than I care to say.
You've got a heart - keep it clean
These leather and gasoline
Dreams won't fulfill you, just drive you farther away
With all the love we had yesterday
You've got 3 exits to prove you're mine
You've got 10 miles to toe the line
You've got one chance to prove who's side you're on
You've got 12 minutes to make a choice:
A deaf world or the poet's voice
Carving some truth from this ephemeron
You've got 3 exits until I am gone
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash
In line for the audition, the girls try not to pace;
I guess that the best monarch is one that knows her place.
Here he comes in his black car, are you ready to go?
You’re lucky, oh, you’re lucky, oh, you’re lucky, don’t you know?
He’ll give you pearls for the ocean: the depths of his desire.
Sapphires for heaven, and rubies for hellfire.
And anything you do, we’ll call it liberation.
Anywhere you go, we’ll call emancipation.
Your face on the flag, his name on your brow,
All the revolutionaries sing the anthem now.
He’ll give you pearls for the ocean: the depths of his desire.
Sapphires for heaven, and rubies for hellfire.
But he might give you nothing. He might only smile and nod
As you take the kids to Walmart, introducing them to God
I can’t tell you why you’re supposed to celebrate
All the thin young victims who help him propagate
He’ll give you pearls for the ocean: the depths of his desire,
Sapphires for the heavens, and rubies for hellfire.
In line for the audition, the girls want to be queen
I guess that’s why none of them like your guillotine
I guess that the best monarch is one that knows her place.
Here he comes in his black car, are you ready to go?
You’re lucky, oh, you’re lucky, oh, you’re lucky, don’t you know?
He’ll give you pearls for the ocean: the depths of his desire.
Sapphires for heaven, and rubies for hellfire.
And anything you do, we’ll call it liberation.
Anywhere you go, we’ll call emancipation.
Your face on the flag, his name on your brow,
All the revolutionaries sing the anthem now.
He’ll give you pearls for the ocean: the depths of his desire.
Sapphires for heaven, and rubies for hellfire.
But he might give you nothing. He might only smile and nod
As you take the kids to Walmart, introducing them to God
I can’t tell you why you’re supposed to celebrate
All the thin young victims who help him propagate
He’ll give you pearls for the ocean: the depths of his desire,
Sapphires for the heavens, and rubies for hellfire.
In line for the audition, the girls want to be queen
I guess that’s why none of them like your guillotine
Photo by Tijs van Leur on Unsplash
And I will help you fade away
If the new pills won’t sing their song
We’ll try again another day
To drag our crosses along
Wouldn’t our fathers be proud of us,
Bleeding into our hands?
Wouldn’t our mothers sigh to discuss
The way no one understands?
So come alone, find me here
Could’ve known to pull me near
Promise me we will drop our load
At the end of the endless road
So where’s the border to this grief?
I’ve tagged my name on every block
Our friends direct us to relief
Like all we have to do is knock, knock, knock, knock, knock
Wouldn’t our fathers be proud of us,
Dying for no cause at all?
Fireworks for the exodus,
And pills for the nation’s fall
So come alone, find me here
Could’ve known to pull me near
Promise me we will drop our load
At the end of the endless road
So come alone, leave today,
A skipping stone down the highway
And we will find all the things we’re owed
At the end of the endless road
So hold me down; I’m terrified
My tinny crown, my suicide
And in the dark a voice of loss echoed
From the end of an endless road
If the new pills won’t sing their song
We’ll try again another day
To drag our crosses along
Wouldn’t our fathers be proud of us,
Bleeding into our hands?
Wouldn’t our mothers sigh to discuss
The way no one understands?
So come alone, find me here
Could’ve known to pull me near
Promise me we will drop our load
At the end of the endless road
So where’s the border to this grief?
I’ve tagged my name on every block
Our friends direct us to relief
Like all we have to do is knock, knock, knock, knock, knock
Wouldn’t our fathers be proud of us,
Dying for no cause at all?
Fireworks for the exodus,
And pills for the nation’s fall
So come alone, find me here
Could’ve known to pull me near
Promise me we will drop our load
At the end of the endless road
So come alone, leave today,
A skipping stone down the highway
And we will find all the things we’re owed
At the end of the endless road
So hold me down; I’m terrified
My tinny crown, my suicide
And in the dark a voice of loss echoed
From the end of an endless road
