1. |
Vacancies
02:30
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1. vacancies
frozen lake and the sound it makes,
trees creak like a closing door.
it shouldn’t keep you up too late,
but if it does just blame it like the
night before.
when i tried to call but the lines were down–that’s what we used to say.
but when you rip them right out of the wall it’s just how they’re gonna stay.
it’s how they’re gonna stay.
and when the morning thaws
and i tiptoe through my mess of cords
to what the motel calls a balcony–
downstairs smoke for company.
my back to the room, facing the street, blinking lobby signs, neon tubes burned out just like a bunch of broken teeth.
just like broken teeth
burned out vacancies.
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2. |
Thinking Of You
03:26
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2. thinking of you
fell asleep face up on the loveseat and then the carpet.
the ballgame broadcast had long since ended.
now with a book splayed out right across your chest,
a couple dog-eared pages still bent
to mark all the lines and all the phrases you’ll never understand.
so would you call it out–whatever it is that you’re gonna do?
i know it’s hard to believe but i was
just thinking of you.
but you keep waking up to these brickwall views,
you say you don’t really mind.
you say you dream yourself back home most every single night.
well at least back to younger years,
when everyone you knew still lived around here
or could afford to and hadn’t started dying off yet.
so would you call it out–whatever it is that you’re gonna do?
i know it’s hard to believe but i was
just thinking of you.
i was just thinking of you.
i was.
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3. |
Headless
03:11
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3. headless
would you hold my still-warm head out of the window?
even headless passengers still get the blues.
just be sure to roll up the back one, we wouldn’t want all my blood just blowing back through.
but if the wind curls up my lips into a grin, will you straighten me out, set me back down?
right there right there on the passenger seat with a view of the dash and that dilapidated diner on the left.
will you straighten me out, set me down?
at the next you might as well roll me out.
roll me out.
would you hold my still-warm head up through the sunroof and i’ll watch a couple broken backstops until i fade.
drive slowly and i’ll drip down gradually to the fabric
i might apologize for the stain.
will you straighten me out, set me back down?
at the next rest stop you know you can just roll me out.
at the next rest stop you can just roll me out.
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4. |
June Or July
02:35
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4. june or july
treeline softens into the sun
highway’s going golden in the sideview.
left arm darkens a little bit more
and i feel a little younger than before.
not by much at all.
the feeling never sticks around for long.
and that graceland tape melting on the dashboard–
i used to sing it to my sister.
nineteen ninety-something, back when she was barely walking
and i was sweeter back then.
but not by much at all.
the feeling never sticks around for long.
but yes i do remember days young and tender
and everything was june or july.
i’ll stop for a picture. take it with the timer
and mail it home when i get the chance.
i’ll mail it home when i get the chance.
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5. |
What We Talk About
03:04
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5. what we talk about
what we talk about when we talk about love–
quiet conversations at the kitchen window
looking out at the backyard.
and i had it coming
drink in hand, took dinner straight to the head.
i had it coming.
didn’t i?
i had it coming.
didn’t i?
say something about this happening every year.
lose a little mascara, shake confetti from your hair.
and i had it coming
drink in hand, took dinner straight to the head.
i had it coming.
didn’t i?
i had it coming.
didn’t i?
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6. |
Horseshoe
01:49
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6. horseshoe
black cat in the blinds,
i got my bright blue new horseshoe.
i’ll hang it above my door frame when i come to.
when i come to,
when i come to.
darling knock me around til i come to.
a nineteen sixty-something space age view.
standing in the literal bend of the road next to you.
when i come to,
when i come to.
darling knock me around til i come to.
i know i gotta get home soon,
won’t you come too?
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7. |
Seventh
02:10
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8. |
Getting Late
04:27
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8. getting late
so your father’s singing hound dog and the crowd goes wild
spilling drinks, raising them right up to the rafters.
and you grab your keys to leave you say
“i gotta get going pretty soon i still got dinner and calls to make.”
but you’re drawing in the drink rings of another chipping tabletop that won’t sit still you swear there’s no flat floor any more.
and you squint across the street you say
“ah fuck, i remember that block way back before it wound up looking that way.”
and i gotta get going soon. it’s not that bad it’s just late.
i gotta get going soon. it’s not that bad but it sure is getting late and the things that get worse in the morning sometimes won’t wait.
the turning signal’s click keeps time with the beat of your breath. driving home reluctantly–man, you know you shouldn’t have.
and i gotta get going soon. it’s not that bad it’s just late.
i gotta get going soon. it’s not that bad but it sure is getting late and the things that get worse in the morning sometimes won’t wait.
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Pretty Old Seattle, Washington
Lo-fi slow songs.
An occasional band/project that includes Zack Bolotin and others.
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