1. |
Cracks in the Pavement
03:51
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Thought I was different
that I could just stumble into love
and all their sage advice
no the rules, they don't apply
I could sense it in my gut
running with both my eyes shut
a night of making plans
what could go wrong?
what do you say?
where do you stand?
Lying awake
our lives at stake
Cracks show through the pavement
weeds poke through the grass
but I'll only see signs of things that last
All the things that make me me
I give it all to you for free
and if you don't know where to start
I can tear myself apart piece by piece
Cause if it comes from the heart
then love has to start
or fall apart
you were perfect for this part
Cracks show through the pavement
weeds poke through the grass
but I'll only see signs of things that last
Threads fray in the sweater
in trees, rot shows in the bark
but I only see light when things are dark
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2. |
In the Middle
03:39
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I take the burdens of others
can you see them on my shoulders?
does that make it special
when I'm bowed low?
But do I really believe it?
that on the other side of lonely
there's a future
where I'm not bound to her
So try walking in the middle
could be good today
do I deserve any other?
no it won't matter tomorrow
could be good today
when you're walking in the middle
You've long since disappeared
but you're burned on my eyelids
when I'm sleeping
then I dream you back
you're a pendulum
a feast and a famine
the loveliest woman
who never lets me rest
So try walking in the middle
could be good today
do I deserve any other?
no that won't matter tomorrow
could be good today
now I'm walking in the middle
Every time I turn around
I lost what I had found
take a little time to make amends
standing here in front of me
are waves on a bright sea
this is the beginning not the end
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3. |
Putnam & Bedford
02:28
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A patchwork of feeling
a passing gaze
I'm finding I'm stealing
every next moment
pass me the bottle
pass me the smoke
pass me a semblance
of passing as human
Who matters
who slaughters
who looks at the rope
sees a way in
a dangle of hope
I once held a scissor
up to my throat
I once felt a fissure
carrying bags
On my way home I felt the divine
creeping up the curb
on my way home I met with my god
on Putnam & Bedford
I used think I was satisfied
I walked like a heathen
thirsty and deprived
now I sit with a coffee
bundled up in a sweater
my hands don't work like they used to
better that they don't
so at least when I'm clinging
I know it'll get loose
and I'll be left alone with nothing to do
Alone with my thoughts and what they won't do
cause those in the end will haunt you
until the don't
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Telephone House Dallas, Texas
Formed in the middle of the Coronavirus Pandemic, with songs composed mostly on phones, Telephone House reflects the introspective and lonely nature of our uncertain era. They have a penchant for sweeping strings and brass that seamlessly trade off with vocals, blending elements of Classical, Jazz, and Folk with hooky pop sensibilities. ... more
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