1. |
Cyrus
04:27
|
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|
No one knows how Cyrus died
on that hazy August night.
Found his skin a purple hue
wrapped up in the summer dew,
wrapped up in the summer dew.
No one knows how Cyrus died.
Found him on the hill outside
with a notebook in his hand.
Cyrus was a gentle man.
I remember, very well,
rollin' down that grassy hill,
making light of all our plans,
actin' like we had a chance,
actin' like we had a chance.
When the Army calls your name,
who will bow their head in shame?
Not the orphaned or the poor,
with whose blood we wage our wars.
I remember clear as day
when my Cyrus sailed away.
Raised his hat up to the sky,
ready for his chance to fight,
ready for his chance to fight.
Wasn't country that took his life,
it was the demons in his mind.
Teach a young man how to fire,
but how to kill without dying?
How to kill without dying?
Well, we all know how Cyrus died.
Found him on the hill outside,
with a pistol in his hand.
Cyrus was a tortured man.
All his things came in a bag,
and his casket in a flag.
Lookin' sharp in Army blue,
finest clothes he ever knew,
finest clothes he ever knew.
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2. |
Winterized
03:29
|
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|
It was ice on the fields
that led to your downfall.
A loss of control
over things unseasonal.
You wait for spring,
joy that it brings,
hands over eyes
You only know
barreling snow,
delusional.
In the months of rain,
all you said to me
was a soft "I'm in pain,"
as you watched the TV.
You wait for hope,
body and soul,
hands over eyes.
Treacherous fall,
knowing it's all
collusional.
As your body crumbles,
so does your mind,
fading into winter
oblivion.
You wait for death
with bated breath,
hands over eyes.
Welcome it in,
know that it's been
intentional.
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3. |
Refuge
06:27
|
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|
I live at the edge of a poisoned great lake.
I am content with the seasons I make.
And I watch the waves roll, carrying sorrows to the mainland -
ribbons of wet folds, dark dusky shadows, once abandoned.
I survive by holding my tongue.
I survive by playing dumb.
I live all alone with the lake my companion.
Harder than a man, but kinder than woman.
And it speaks of treasure, men of great measure now frozen
In harshest weather, I know we'll still be there in the morning.
I survive by keeping so still.
I survive by losing will.
The ice only thaws three months of the year,
but I don't mind living way out here,
where no one pays to see the things I've done,
away from the pain of loving someone
I am the shore.
I will always be here.
To weather your storm,
I will always be near.
I survive by knowing my place.
I survive by staying awake.
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abbey ness Charlottesville, Virginia
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