1. |
Dancing Skeletons
03:21
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Been throwing bones
till dancing skeletons arose.
There are no graves
when jealous memory pervades.
And your looking down your nose, saying:
"I'd never make that dance my own."
Your indifference is so admirable.
And your calm, cool words are quite remarkable.
But I can't but help but think there's something curious,
cause when you talk about the past it's though you were never there at all.
And your looking down your nose, saying:
"I'd never make that dance my own."
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2. |
Going to Bed with Fate
02:15
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In the most sickening of moments,
I attempt to walk past death
and into that spiritless void that could be waiting,
denying us all, every second passing.
And I am afraid.
For all of us and our senseless pride.
For all of us,
and our toothpaste, exercising, eating right . . .
But most of all,
For love.
And I'd like to believe that I'd still live on,
like an ant you've stepped on,
but not quite hard enough.
I'd be determined to breathe until breathing runs out of breath,
and sends me a postcard from wherever he's gone.
Wherever I'm going.
I'd like to believe that I had set up camp with Fate,
and that he was cooking the chili,
while I was setting up the tent,
and that when night came,
we both dreamed splendid things that children dream,
and that we would wake up again.
But I've never known anyone who has gone to bed with Fate.
Although many would tell you that they had,
and smoothed his roughened skin over
with motherly delicate hands, that soothe to touch.
I wonder if they did it with their eyes open,
and if they were really just touching themselves.
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3. |
Hope/Regret
01:49
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For a bit
I will take all glad finishes,
gauzed in hope,
and throw them in the hamper to stew.
Because there is something here, now.
Shimmering in laughter at giving hope the slip.
And it's you.
I will, for awhile, take all my souvenirs,
warn smooth by nostalgic hands,
caste in black with regret,
and I'm gonna pawn them off for something new.
Because there is something here, now.
Glistening.
Mischievous.
Having de-masked regret to find only a mannequin.
And it's you.
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4. |
Morning Robot
03:15
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I have no use for bravery.
I have no need for acts of grace.
All I need is your face next to mine
when the morning robot chimes,
and I'll be alright.
It's true:
We are trapped within this money game,
and submission comes room for living leaves.
But if you will, we can try and keep from living this terrible dream
that I had last night:
I went to the bank and asked for some money.
You'll never believe what they gave me:
It was a piece of my own heart.
It was a piece of my own heart.
Alright.
Take it back.
Alright.
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5. |
That's Generous
01:41
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You took me out on the open road;
I never knew it.
I took you out to the open road,
and really blew it.
There were northern lights that night,
and I knew that you were there with me,
but I couldn't see right or left or my immediate
oh, right behind me.
I took you out in the open road,
and I knew it wasn't quite right.
Took you out and I knew I was alone
???? . . . realize . . .
And that's generous.
And that's generous.
I took you out in the open road,
and I knew it was right.
I couldn't live till you knew that I couldn't be inside.
On the terrace in Madison,
there was I moment I didn't know.
There was a moment I had no idea.
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6. |
In the Middle
03:13
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Leave your head on that pillow.
We were staring straight through time.
God, it's strange how very little
this moment has to do with pride.
I feel we're meeting in the middle,
outside of you
outside of I.
I don't know why it seems this way, my dear,
but the more we leave behind
of all the strength we're told to coddle,
the more our tears to intertwine,
and bathe us there in the middle:
It steals the permanence from dying.
I know we've had but very little time
before you let go your hands from mine,
but things like your face in blue alarm clock's glow,
pieces of you you left behind
are still there
In the middle, where I go from time to time
To clear my head from all the rabble,
and of that night you do remind,
and of your head on that pillow.
It steals the permanence from dying.
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7. |
Easy
04:25
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Drop the bottom out.
Take the top off.
Show me who you are.
Well, you think it's easy?
I know it's not . . . for you.
Bleed through your voice.
Speak through your veins.
Undermine your own fragility, and trust.
Trust.
Well, you think it's easy?
I know it's not . . . for you.
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8. |
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Well, I never knew a life could be so wilted and pale,
while grounded in the darkest soil.
It's like wind through tattered sails.
And I swear that you're not dying.
It just feels that way in a cocoon
wrapped in fibers spun from women's breath.
But awake my friend, awake my friend soon.
And I will.
And I will.
Cupid's arrow hit the ground,
and I knew it was his the tip was profound.
All corkscrews and razor blades,
and some inscribing as well:
It said to all my fair masochists: You're blood's being held in a well,
Where all us gods and goddesses dip our paint brushes in,
and paint beautiful shadows that heal as they cling to your skin.
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9. |
Throw Knives
03:51
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I made it through the night.
I made it through the evening time.
Standing on a hill in the sunlight
With flailing hands looking for something that won't fade with time.
My heart lives on the wall of your old bedroom,
and I the fool have supplied you with and agreed to have you
throw knives.
Be gentle my dear, my friends:
No failure of any magical feat has come from intention.
I made it through the night.
I waited through the evening time.
I waited through the night.
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10. |
The Gravity of Time
04:26
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Can't get this vision out of my thoughts:
I'm sinking in quicksand while winding my watch.
I know a girl.
Her heart is like mine.
With every pulse it rails against
the gravity of time.
Well, it's a tricky thing to remember you're alive,
when all but dreams are perfunctory,
and no one near has died.
Slip though into something new
Goodbye boredom.
Watch ticks all these faces and places internalized.
Then sink again and the cycle is on.
To see things clear,
like through a child's eyes.
What's happened to us here, my friend?
Do you remember what it's like?
To have every day anew again?
Why do we have to try?
You can move your feet,
or you can move your mind.
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Lilt Portland, Oregon
Lilt is the solo work of multi-instrumentalist Joshua Harvey.
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