1. |
Paris, TX
03:04
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I open the door, and I hear the highway roar,
It takes more space every day
It’s a gray afternoon, second Sunday in June,
And the cars in my ears are rumbling on
Travis dressed in black, with a red baseball cap
Talks like my ‘pa, and walks like me
I am crying out for help, retreat into myself
and the cars in my ears, I wish they’d stop
Rushing around into twilight
chasing a red Chevrolet
The boy leads the way to what can’t be erased
I close my eyes, breathe one long sigh
And I open the door, and I hear the highway roar
Tell me has it always been this way?
I forget what I lost, buy what I keep around
And the path that I take traveling home
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2. |
Mosquitoes
03:37
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Tending my spine in the pink wind, auburn light
Mosquitoes take flight as I hang in your clothespin eyes
The kindness you offer me, the distance you keep
the click and the shuttering, to hear what you see
And the rustling between us leaves in the ripple of night
what you pen of the feathers that fall to your spine
to repair?
How I’ve relied on the green edge of your blue reply
and yet it is I who is silent by your tableside
Leaving your quiet lawn, mosquitoes sing
and I leave to ponder on my sucking and screams
And the rustling between us leaves it the ripple of night
what would I pen of the feathers that fall to my spine
to repair?
All of my anger and self-righteous urgency gone
how I’d remember the wings of the love we flew on
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3. |
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peering out on the railing
fingers loosen, rearranging
the parts that you can share honestly
when it’s searing, full of anguish
could my hearing give it language?
even if it don’t, I’ll pull you through
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4. |
Someone from Home
03:11
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the great rockers of Cleveland have a soul that I rarely share
yet I’m reminded that it’s there when I ride in your car
the clouds over the Beachland, the cool mist in the air
well they run through your sandy hair, like you’re someone they know
how long ‘til I break the mask of the place from which I came
can I ride with you tonight, and see me in unfamiliar light?
no old table to eat from, no new blood in my veins
yet your voice rings with my name, like you’re someone from home
in five years of our friendship, at times I’ve felt out of place
yet I learned to take up space, right next to you
how long ‘til I break, the mask of the place from which I came
can I ride with you tonight, and see me in unfamiliar light
how not to confuse loyalty with a shelled excuse
if I change soft in the night, would I be the one you’d recognize?
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5. |
Coarse Reflections
03:59
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sunlight spins white from the sycamore’s twisting bows, river whirling
whistle splits night as we climb up the railroad tower, light returning
though it does not care, it’s like a prayer I never noticed
like your gratitude for days renewed, has come in focus
meadow ‘round the tracks
sun on any path…
if we hang from the beams of an ancient grief, seldom spoken
would a tear in the roof offer freeing proof, or damning token?
when I hear your voice, I hear a choice, I never noticed
like your gratitude for days renewed has come in focus
meadow round the tracks
sun on any path…
soft reflections, scattered lies
coarse reflections, squinting eyes
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6. |
Crybabies
03:25
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talking at the taco bar, we wrote a song about beer
you spoke so much with your arms, I did my best to hear
I can’t describe the feeling stuck inside, coming into bloom
you asked me back to your house, I met your dog at the door
black hair and graceful paws, she moved her hips like yours
I caught a glimpse of what life could have been, to be loved by you
turning inside out, and shaking off my doubt
my heart began to pound, and so I ran for you
when we kissed later that week, you told me you had a crush
my heart turned into clay, changing to every touch
until I burned and now I’m full of holes, and hold what you gave me
turning in my sleep, like waking from a dream
your dog between my knees, what am I to you?
what am I feeling? I want to be true to you
but I’m lying to myself, lying ‘bout my health,, just to stay near you
what am I feeling? how can I be true to you,
when I have never felt so lost?
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7. |
To Be Real
03:15
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what does it feel like? I’m not sure I know
I found it hard to explain, you said it sounds uncontrolled
well, I have shaped it, and wrapped it into
all of my grandest feats, and all my lonely pursuits
what does it feel like? like I can’t talk to you
I’ve got too many problems, too much work to do
why am I working? ‘cause I ain’t worth enough
but I got all of the answers, I’ll leave you to rust
ancient saber, fearful shield
I’d lay them down to be real
what does it feel like? it feels like distrust
of everyone’s feelings, save weakness and lust
what does it feel like? like I deserve pain,
for some kind of vacancy too old to explain
ancient saber, fearful shield
I’d lay them down to be real
calm my heart in greener fields
no lonely walk can solely heal
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8. |
Son Cries
04:00
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through the embers of our night, we remember our son cries
smoldering through their disguise, flaming with amazement
there’s a boy we can’t erase, in each of us he’s out of place
under tender eyes he day-, dreams until your own shake him awake
call in…
see the woman in my face, greet the shedding of that shame
when you took my hand, stubborn harshness peeling back
how I opened up so quietly
through the ash I let her in, fill my voice and warm my skin
wrap me in the clothes she’d pick, not some frail shadow
there’s a boy we can’t erase, holds the love of being raised
and the courage to embrace, the things in me which he can’t yet explain
call in..
see the woman in my face, greet the shedding of the shame
when you took my hand, held it like an open plan
how I understood so quickly
she is me
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9. |
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oh when I rose out of the valley, angry and afraid
tired of pretending, I unrolled all my shame
moonlight on spring grass, pigeons in the sun
they cry ‘you’re not lonely’ to the child in my heart
as he’s screaming, swinging his skinny arms,
oh, I will show him beauty and help him do less harm
crying and lying, the boy who never learned to care
so he searched for a teacher in every heart, til there was no one there
so we’ll walk to the creek, bubbling it’s tiny prayers
oh, I will show him beauty, or whatever flows down there
oh the paths we take to leave something behind
now I will let him sleep in, and find out what’s inside
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Field Sleeper Columbus, Ohio
Field Sleeper is singer/songwriter Alex Paquet (they/them)
fieldsleepermusic@gmail.com
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