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1. |
Savage Love
05:06
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Hey, boy, why don't you act straight?
Words don't come out right,
figures don't make any sense.
You’ve got a thorn in your side.
Something don't look right,
there's bleach in the well.
I can help you out.
Let go of the joy you find
in touches and glances
from boys in the yard.
Forget someone to hold tight,
an engine that runs right;
a feeling of trust.
The blood’s on our hands, Anoka-Hennepin.
The blood’s on our hands, in Bakersfield.
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2. |
When The Darkness Comes
03:47
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Down so hard.
Conversations stop as
two feet stumble
over the kitchen floor.
Simple mistake,
not the first time--
Body seems to
float away,
when the darkness comes.
Break the news:
doctors say something's about to happen;
it's serious.
Shouldn't you be terrified,
not so full of love?
The body seems to float away,
when the darkness comes.
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3. |
The Body Unmade
04:16
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O’ to be in the womb!
O’ the body unmade!
Tomorrow, a virgin.
Why do brilliant minds and soft hearts become real estate agents--
Exquisite teeth lost in a bath of incandescent lighting?
Why do lovers become liars and then disappear?
Oh, they're all blissed out on mercury and sea salt.
O’ to be in the womb!
O’ the body unmade!
Tomorrow, a virgin.
Ten thousand hours in the back of a radio station;
sprawled out, scrawling on the bathroom stall;
instructional graphics, statements on hydrodynamic thrust,
lemon-scented air fresheners shaped like yellow Christmas trees,
hanging sad from a Chevy rear-view.
I've got a question.
Can you hear it? Can you hear it?
It's calling out like a diver caught in the honeycomb,
waterlogged and choking--it's the fucking future, man.
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4. |
Cut The Line
03:50
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Remember:
Cut the line and fade away.
I resent the feathers and
the money spent.
The sun is only hiding--
light, obscured by cloud.
Apache horses riding,
Cochise above the ground.
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5. |
Blue Blood
04:56
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Inside the dome of the skull,
Inside the cage of the brain,
Inside the artery, inside the vein,
Inside the breath of the lungs,
Blue Blood.
Push it out.
Get it out.
Say the word.
Push it out.
Inside the house of the Lord,
Inside the home of the priest,
Inside the artifice, inside the ghost,
Inside the den of the lamb,
Blue Blood.
Who holds their tongue when the blade comes down?
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6. |
Crackle and Hiss
05:50
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You can find me there,
in the back of the room,
on some beat-up couch, where it’s playing.
In some Southern town,
where I’m all strung out,
and it’s up too loud for the neighbors.
Coming down the hall,
it’s that same old song,
I heard it again, and it hit me.
I know, I know, I know.
I only know I need it.
Let the record skip, let it move right past
the sound of the years on the best track.
Hear the crackle and hiss. Hear the warp, hear the wind.
It’s my favorite part of Loveless.
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7. |
Teeth Like Mountaintops
04:52
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Locked and low, cancer slow,
jaws are clamping down so tight
they break the vice.
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8. |
||||
Thanks for letting me eat human food.
Thanks for letting me breathe real air.
Thanks for letting me use the men’s restroom.
Thanks for letting me f– with the curtains drawn.
Thanks for everything.
Thanks for the awkward conversation.
Thanks for heartfelt reassurances.
Thanks for having black friends.
Thanks for asking about my weekend plans.
You’ve been so mature about this.
Thanks for everything.
Thank you, America.
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9. |
Lost In Tape (Interlude)
00:24
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10. |
Twin City (Quadrants)
07:04
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Tossed away, past a capital keepsake,
no one’s building a monument
to the masses of tired men trying to get up
off the shore. In the middle of a wasted day,
sipping soda, but no argument for the steps
that get lost in the rhythm.
Wound up tight in the ruts and grooves.
Kill the light, smoke another one,
“It’s not right,” “Keep your eyes on the streetcar.”
That won’t do, no it’s too direct.
Write it down, maybe circumspect.
Pull it back, keep it natural, do not address what is missing.
Through the park, in the circle and in the dark
some kind of hired hand’s documents
spilling open like catfish in the river.
Written out--who can read it,
but spell it out. Thoughts that intersect--
flush it out, push it outside the boundaries.
The left side; the right side.
Take it all, popped and firecracked.
Burn it all, just to redirect.
Bust it loose, drop the bomb and then,
cut it out, just a minor threat.
Marion--marry anyway.
White it out, parking lots and then,
sell me out. Not a native but sell me out.
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11. |
Spanish Lynx
03:43
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Lynx went swimming in the Great Sea,
maybe too far.
Lynx was looking for some supper.
Did he love her?
Lynx went drinking,
she had too much and stumbled home.
Lynx found her house broken into,
and flames were licking it up.
She denies the smoke inside her lungs.
The kids are all gone.
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Tereu Tereu Washington, D.C.
Noisy prog-pop by Brendan Polmer and Ryan Little.
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