1. |
Elegy to the Drunkard
03:05
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Bury me
In the woods below,
I want to go home.
Save me
From the whiskey in my throat
It took all I know.
Mercy
It's all I hope for anymore.
Kill me
Save no memory of me.
Let me go
Home.
To dust I return home.
Finally home.
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2. |
Black Rabbits
06:38
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The smoke from the cigarettes
Fill the room,
A parlor full of freaks
Celebrate your doom,
They gather as you dream
Of a place far away,
Console themselves with silly things,
While you sleep through the day.
Dressed up in a gown,
They take your oaken box,
And toss it in the ground.
Oh tell me,
Do you dream of me too,
Oh tell me,
Do you dream at all?
Oh tell me do you see them too?
Black Rabbits surrounding you?
Their beady eyes look into me
And I can't help but cry.
I can't help.
No sight of your darling face,
As they fill the hole.
The black rabbits
They stay with me and it seems that they've grown
Indulgent on the wilting flowers
Frozen by first snow.
Oh tell me,
Do you see them too?
Did you know
That I loved you?
Black rabbits they haunt me so,
They tell me the I'll never know.
And when they catch me,
I only hope,
With my only rope,
That maybe then,
You won't be alone.
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3. |
The Telltale Heart
06:54
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Grey, Dull, Dead, Sunken, Lazy eye
You're the target of my ire.
Disgusting, useless, color-deaf
You can't even see the fire from my lantern.
It's for the best, it's for my rest
Why won't you close at my behest?
I have no choice, except to hoist this axe
Above my head.
Ah Santa Maria,
Rogai por mim por favor
Ah Santa Maria
Agora, e nao na hora da minha morte.
Deaf, Mute, Blind, statue way up high
I must ask, why do you cry?
You stand up tall, The judge of all
Yet you don't even try to hear my motives.
Porcelain ears and glassy eyes
I know those tears are a disguise.
You accuse me, I deny
That there ever was a heartbeat beneath the floorboards.
Ah Santa Maria,
Rogai por mim por favor
Ah Santa Maria
Agora, e nao na hora da minha morte.
It's all untrue, It's all just lies,
You say to sentence me to die.
"Where is he then, why have you fled?"
Do I look like my brother's keeper?
Take out your rose-tinted hearing aids
And listen to what I have to say to you.
The Devil lives in hearts of lukewarm
And fiery zealots all the same.
Ah Santa Maria,
Rogai por mim por favor
Ah Santa Maria
Agora, esta hora da minha morte.
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4. |
Polyenka
01:10
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5. |
Spirit Box (Atlas)
05:59
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The moon is high
Enough for me.
I don't like too much light,
Because I can't stand to be in your sight.
I dim like the sky,
Every time your eyes
Pry into my life.
So leave me alone,
But don't leave me hanging here,
Pick up the phone,
And let me know that I'm not here all alone.
You plague me
Every night,
In the back of my eyelids,
Closed so tight.
And I can't seem to make things right,
Even in daydreams
I'm sick with fright
From thoughts on where you've gone.
I just hope you're alright,
Here or there, wherever you are,
I'm sorry Atlas.
You've been gnarled
By the weight
Of the world
On your back.
She wants to crush you
For everything that I lacked.
I'm sorry Atlas.
So leave me alone,
But don't leave me hanging here.
I don't know what I want more,
Than to hear your voice.
So speak through the radio
And please let me know
If I'm here all alone
In the dark.
Hello?
Where are you?
It's dark.
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6. |
A Death in the Family
07:08
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You're right where you're meant to be,
You're right here next to me,
Though I can't see you too clearly
Static's on my TV
(Again)
You're right here next to me,
That's right where you're supposed to be
I hope that you can see me,
The glass has gotten foggy
In this picture frame we both share,
Looking out with cold stares,
You were happy
But I'm,
I'm still scared
(I'm not there)
(I've got nothing squared)
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7. |
Eu Saudade Do Que Era
04:26
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"This one is for Elaine, my little china doll."
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Colin Silva Boston, Massachusetts
“A pipe dream is fun and all until you find a bullet waiting for you at the other end." Colin Silva is a songwriter from Boston, MA. obsessed with the literary, and the human instinct of persistence in the face of futility. Silva's debut album, "Funeral Marches for the Trampled Drunkard," is the mark of this obsession, citing, "Crime and Punishment," as inspiration for this dive into melancholy. ... more
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