Альбом Small Towns Burn A Little Slower

There's no room for substance
When you've got abundance,
And who needs self respect
When you've got fortune and fame.
Stepping stones labeled friends.
Without roots the mighty oak won't last for long.
Let's hear it for ideals,
Can i get a round of sound for something real.
For he's a jolly good fellow,
But he's being put out to pasture to make way for prosperity. and if that's
My right of passage,
Then i will opt in the favor of failure
And never think twice.
This is not to break down.
This is to build you up, and remind myself
To forget the fashion and bring back the passion

Drink in, as you sink into the floor.
Last call, as you stagger out the door.
Dream of a better life on a coast you've never known.
Remember loves you've lost, and friends that you've out grown.
Is there answers in the bottle
To the questions that you found at the bottom of your bag.
Barely among the living. forget forgiving.
Spark it up, and dive into a pool of your regrets
That is quickly becoming a sea.
Why leave home in search of
What you have all ready got here

Baseball cards and matchbox-cars.
Let's pretend that we are rock-stars.
Let's build a ramp behind the house,
And let's jump bikes off of it.
Let's make a list. let's follow it.
"rainy day surprises" and military exercises.
Let's build a fort, just outside the trailer park.
We won't let any one else in.
Last blast off this ship is going down,
To the bottom of the stairs and across the floor.
Times have changed.
You're twenty-six now with a wife and kid of your own.
And i'm not far behind you.
Even when all your friends are gone.
I will be here, because i am your brother

In loving memory of joseph felix o'brian.
Dying midwestern like a black and white movie.
On the shore, carved by the mississippi, and the st. croix.
This park bench commemorates the love for marion L
"an unfailing prize far beyond her weight in pearls"
To all who knew her.
Underground springs that replenish themselves.
The history trickles down through the pebbles and stone.
Carefully floating out to sea,
Through the plains of a nation.
Jackson meadows gives birth to a new way of life.
White houses and black roofs.
Rooms that appear to be empty,
But are filled with imagination.
Picture your love.
Inhabiting this lonely chair.
This is where they come to die,
And the first place they've really lived.
Frayed photos of riverboats with rolling smoke.
Barges that carry this year's crop.
These letters fleeting.
Read in whispers on rainy days.
The message remains.
Lingers on lips, and sleeps in the lines on our face.
Ready to be awoken on our departure

The fields have been emptied
The trees are naked weeping for spring
The sun is sleeping longer as last of the green tries on it's winter clothes
The rustle of ever leaf
Whispers summer secrets behind her back
"This is where they walk together this is where she said
She loved him and swore the distance would not break their bond"
Songs of season cling to clay memories
Summer flings fingerprints all over them
Like a grain of sand on a beach of false hope
Swept away into an ocean of everyday life
[spoken part taken from "The Road Less Traveled" by Robert Frost]

Shed your appendages.
Trade your skin for scales.
Venomous speech.
Your blood stained teeth.
You won't stop until you've sucked us dry.
You speak your love for me.
I turn my back, and you curse my name.
Excrement by any other title will still reek.
Start out praying, and wind up masturbating.
Self gratification in jesus name
Is still the same thing.
There you are. curled and poised to strike.
Your fangs in my veins all because of your vanity.
All the kings horses and all the kings men
Will not put this together again

Millstones disguised as milestones.
You peer into the room
That doesn't hold the things that you anticipated all your life.
"the years you've wasted."
You're twenty-five, and barely alive.
And this is not the life you thought you'd live.
Not the love you thought you'd have.
You're lonely, but you're not alone.
But don't feel bad.
You know it's not your fault.
Your parents basically laid the foundation.
The product of a loveless marriage.
It's always been this way.
Turn up the bottle and tie another one on

Heads delicately dreaming of the beauty behind shadows
She sings inside the saddest homes
Together we in our hard spring
Lie apart asleep in green country and now I'm on my own
Everything is gone, oh my God
In the gift of a moment we whisper beneath chocolate skies
Water chanting springs symphony of rain
[lyrics comprised of two magnetic poems]

Sirens scream a tune of panic.
Heartbeats rival the speed at which the pistons are pushing the engine.
Dispatched to the aid of black despondency.
Life has left the body,
And barely lingers somewhere in the grey matter.
Faces pale with the knowledge of whys and hows.
It's haunting to know that life can beat you down with such great ease.
Confirming those things that you have tried to ignore.
Compelling you to bathe in your despair.
Bankrupt on the fact that you have no power over your disposition.
Like a (great)ghost that speaks breathy in your ear.
It's a common theme but one we cant discount.
Let's bring aid to those not fervent enough to help themselves.
Raise a flag of hope, that there is a brilliant tomorrow

The mist is lifted to reveal an abandon road.
Leading to a discarded train track town.
The sign still reads "rooms to let"
Even though this place has been vacant for decades.
We've been vacant for decades.
This village died with the locomotive.
Families now forged by automobiles and airplanes.
Do these things make it easier to be close,
Or effortless to leave?
These poor walls used to be called home,
But the occupants didn't bother to board them up
Before moving on to the next big thing.
These tattered sidewalks tell their stories,
And then beg for use again.
Children's laughter still permeates through backyards.
Tree-forts, and tire-swings.
Family meals give way to golden arches.
Progress has a price,
And i am not sure i can flip the bill

I've got a painting in my head
(one that will not soon fade)
Of twisted metal and broken glass.
They say it all will fade in time,
But it's tattooed on our hearts,
And it's showing in our eyes.
"wake up, so i can tell you about my bad day"
Now i hear a voice from behind,
And it says "why don't we take our time tonight,
Cause we don't want another one"
Now the same fog is rolling in.
I grasp the wheel as my heart races.
What a way to start the new year

I've got to get off my back
And put my words into action.
I have laid motionless for much too long now.
The dream is not dead.
It's just laid dormant in my head.
Eating away at the back of my mind.
Feeding on my inhibitions.
I wanna sever the bonds that have tied me down,
And tied my tongue.
Wage war with the lesser self.
Be a better man.
Let's celebrate the blood that courses.
Feeding life to every cell.
Giving thanks for the air that fills these lungs.
Giving us voice, and giving us song.
"where are all the good men dead?
In the heart, or in the head?"