1. |
||||
2. |
Echo
03:39
|
|||
I hope you know this song is not about you.
It's not about the time you undressed me with your eyes
and it's not about your lips,
or the ways in which your hips
elucidate the wisdom of your thighs.
I hope you know this song goes on forever.
It is not merely the procession of these notes.
No, the depth from which it springs,
it is the source of everything.
My method is to do as I am told.
And so it is I am an echo,
I am a vessel of your truth.
Here it is, I am an echo.
One voice torn in two.
I am a memory of you.
I hope you know this song is all I've got left.
It is that final thread which is tying down my mind
and if you hear it snap
it will be followed by a laugh.
You can not really lose what you could never find.
I hope you know this song is not completed.
It is not gliding down some track to its bitter end.
No, the movements of the times
and the way the stars aligned
were not plotted in advance like some silly trend.
And yet here it is, I am an echo,
I am a vessel of some truth.
Here it is, I am an echo.
One voice torn in two.
I am a memory of you.
I wanted you to know that I am thankful
for all the ways you've been so kind.
You always gave me what I asked for,
even when what I asked for was just a waste of time.
It was a waste of time.
I wasted so much time.
|
||||
3. |
Trophy Song
03:41
|
|||
I hope your life is a canvas
with every kind word the stroke of
some artist’s brush.
I hope your body’s a campus,
educating the young and
eager populace.
I hope your heart is a planet,
dancing in the ballet
of gravitational trust.
I hope you never understand this
mesmerizing and painful
Universe.
And I can’t tell which came first:
This great ocean or this Great Thirst
Could you tell me which came first?
The master thief or The Woman’s purse?
I just can’t tell which came first…
And here I am,
I am emptying myself.
This is greater than any trophy
you could fit on your shelf.
And there you are,
you are emptying yourself.
This is greater than any trophy
I could fit on my shelf
And here we are,
we are emptying ourselves.
This is greater than any trophy
we could fit on our shelves.
It’s just us, ourselves.
|
||||
4. |
A Work in Progress
03:28
|
|||
I’ve been working on this new song
that has been worked on
one million times before
by men much more eloquent
than I am.
And I’m sure you know it well,
it’s about waking up in hell
and trying your very best
to create heaven.
Well, Adam once stood
where you stand, my friend.
We watched as he fell
to the Earth.
Eve, too, we all knew
her fate in the end.
She was a scapegoat
from the moment of birth.
There’s nothing
all that shameful in that.
I’ve been working on this new song
that has been worked on
one million times before
by men much more eloquent
than I am.
I know you know it well.
It’s buried deep inside your cells,
and it’s crying out like a prophet
cries towards heaven.
We watched as those
Towers of Babylon
fell down like
twin plums to the Earth
and for a moment we
heard no one babel on
and on about their
own self worth.
There was something
quite honest in that.
|
||||
5. |
American Trash
03:01
|
|||
I weep for the mothers
who bury their sons
and I weep for
American trash.
I weep for this fire
blazing in my heart.
It turns all your kind
words to ash.
I weep for you
and the things
you’re holding on to.
I weep for all
there’s no pain
too great or to small
to beckon my love,
I reckon that dove
still has wings.
I weep for the rebirth
of Free Love as AIDS
and I weep for
“bohemian kitsch”
I weep for this patchwork
of failed promises
yeah, I weep for
every single stitch.
I weep for me,
alone in the
land of the free.
I weep for all.
There’s no pain too great
or too small
to warrant my gaze.
It’s abhorrent, these ways
that we hide.
|
||||
6. |
||||
I tried hard
to be some kind
of mystic.
I ended up
a man in love
with himself.
The more I look,
the more I seem
to miss it.
My poverty is
my only source
of wealth.
It don’t run out.
Do you know
where the music goes
to die?
I hear it’s where
your vision meets
your eye.
Do you know
where the music goes
to die?
I hear it’s where
the question is
the answer why.
I tried hard
to find some kind
of meaning.
I ended up
a man in search
of himself.
Am I standing
tall or am
I leaning?
Is there anyone
who can
even tell?
If so, won’t you call me out?
And do you know
where the music goes
to die?
I hear it’s where
your vision meets
your eye.
Do you know
where the music goes
to die?
I hear it’s where
the question is
the answer why.
|
||||
7. |
Devotional #2
02:08
|
|||
I rest assured
that all my words
add up to less than a
single tear in an ocean.
And here I stand,
a broken man.
One more wounded heart
kneeling in devotion.
I direct my prayer
to the lord of motion:
“Oh Lord, let me be.”
I exchanged my youth
for a bit of truth.
It sank into my skin
like a heavy lotion.
And now each day
I strip away
another lifeless layer
of emotion.
I direct my prayer
to the source of notions:
“Oh Source, set me free.”
And:
“Is this really what you
want me to remember?
That nothing in this life
will last forever?”
|
||||
8. |
Plato's Cave
02:55
|
|||
I found you in Plato’s cave.
You were teaching a class
on shadow puppetry.
And I went lost inside your gaze.
It was the platonic form
of empathy.
And I still see
the rhythms and timbres of
your body.
And I still hear
the shapes of your laughter
inside of my ear.
Won’t you please let me worship you?
Every moment our hero dies
and is brought back to life
unceasingly.
So please don’t tell me another lie.
You know Goddamn well
you are everything.
And I still taste
that bittersweet freedom
I hardly could face.
And I still know
that wisdom and dignity
down in our bones.
There’s a kingdom inside your heart.
Hold it up. There isn’t much time.
Hold it up. We’re running out of time.
Hold it up. We haven’t much time.
|
||||
9. |
When Moses Sighed
05:29
|
|||
I was there when Jesus died,
a convoluted suicide.
He told me,
“No one likes a martyr.”
I was there when Hitler cried.
Six million tears fell from his eyes.
He could not
purify that water.
It sure seems like
that salt was in its nature.
I guess no one
can look through a perfect mirror.
Do you know where I might go
for answers?
My mama said,
“This Earth and its
blind fruits are ballet dancers.”
And so it goes:
Round and round
and round and round
and round.
Just like that, it goes
round and round and round
and round and round.
I was there when Moses sighed.
That gust of wind, it kissed the tides
and that Red Sea
just split like some ancient atom.
I was there when Manson tried
to cover up his ugly side.
He dug a
grave inside Manhattan
The depths of
which no one can fully fathom.
I hear his casket
is lined in Venetian satin.
Do you know where I might go
for answers?
My mama said,
“This Earth and its
blind fruits are ballet dancers.”
And so it goes:
Round and round
and round and round
and round.
Like mama said, it goes
round and round and round
and round and round.
I was there when Heidegger
blew open the aperture.
I watched his
mouth turn into sunlight.
I was there when I was there.
How much more could one man bare?
I witnessed
the last great eagle take flight.
Her feathers
fell like stars across a black night.
This somehow
curbed my holy appetite.
Do you know where I might go
for answers?
My mamma said,
“This Earth and its blind fruits
are ballet dancers,”
And so it goes:
Round and round
and round and round
and round.
Just like that, it goes
round and round and round
and round and round.
Like mamma said, it goes
round and round and round
and round and round.
It’s birth and death, they go
round and round and round
and round and round.
|
||||
10. |
||||
I never thought I would
write some corny love song.
I never thought I would
feel the way I do.
I never thought I would
sink into this ocean.
The one that carries
these words
like a raft from me to you.
I’ve often been
a man of poor intention.
I have often found
my foot stuck inside my mouth
But I will tell you now
with absolute conviction
I’m as sure of this
as those birds
when they head south.
I love you now
and I will love you ‘til the day I die.
Come look me right in the eye.
I love you now
and I will love you ‘til the day I die.
I always thought
that I was not completed
I always felt
like some shepherd who lost his staff
I always feared
I was cosmically cheated
I’ve been finding out
I was just
missing my second half.
I love you now
and I will love you ‘til the day I die.
Come look me right in the eye.
I love you now
and I will love you ‘til the day I die.
|
||||
11. |
All We've Got
05:51
|
|||
I will not try to look in your eye.
If that’s what you wish, I will honor you this:
I’ll go blind.
Or if you want me to sit and listen to you,
I mean, if that’s what you wish, there’s no need to insist,
I don’t mind.
There is no wrong way through this song.
It is already here, let us enter it dear.
It won’t bite.
This world may not be all we wanted
but it’s all we’ve got.
And in youth we knew our house was haunted,
now we know it’s not.
But may your heart stay open and honest
and learn what it’s taught.
Like this world may not be all we wanted
but it’s all we’ve got.
Like castles of sand, we built with our hands
such beautiful lives. In the blink of an eye
they are gone.
But please don’t lament. Those tears which you spent,
they fell to the Earth. There was a stirring of dirt,
then new life.
And everyone knows what we seldom disclose.
We all wander about trying to drown out
our hearts.
This world may not be all we wanted
but it’s all we’ve got.
And in youth we knew our house was haunted,
now we know it’s not.
But may your heart stay open and honest
and learn what it’s taught.
Like this world may not be all we wanted
but it’s all we’ve got.
|
||||
12. |
A Strange Piece
05:12
|
|||
Time keeps on slipping through my fingers
like an ocean slips right through
a paper cup.
And every Thursday night I watch the singers
down at Cheer Up Charlie's
raise their voices up.
Those holy, drunken angels wash over me
and rid me of the parts I can not clean.
The parts of me I cannot stand to look at.
The parts of me I wish were just a dream.
And everyone I've met has been an arrow,
pointing me to where I need to go
Everyone I've met has been an arrow
piercing me right down into my bones.
Like those punk rock, suburban girls
with their Betty Boop, cartoon-curls
and their bouquets of neon light.
They sip from the flask of night.
I pray they will grow up strong,
hear hope in the bleakest of songs
May they find peace.
Time keeps on plucking on my heartstrings.
Writing all the songs
I never could.
It pats me on the head and whispers, "Darling,
there's so much more to music
than sounding good."
That ancient, heavy burden is lifted then
and suddenly this world has taken form.
Every single fleck of dust starts dancin'
to the songs which now I know I must perform.
If life is just a chain of many failures,
then failing I will do with all my heart.
If life is just a chain of many failures
then failing will become my highest art.
Those mustached and tattooed boys
with their craft beers and other toys,
they discuss all those sacred truths
buried deep inside Sonic Youth.
I know they will die some day
and I too will go away.
This brings me peace.
I've found my peace.
What a strange peace.
But it's my peace.
|
Matthew Squires Austin, Texas
I think, all things considered, the songs I write are much more listenable than the songs I don't write.
Streaming and Download help
If you like Where The Music Goes To Die, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp