1. |
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2. |
The Wolf Of State Street
04:03
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No frowns tapping and clocking out, but staring these bottles of doubt on the ground; like all these paper
flyers you're passing around town. Words flowing into memories like flashbacks and visions of the 90's.
Repping paper bag 40's was the fashion of a classic sin, not in a sense; not innocence. State street you're
coming back to me. A little building on the corner of McKenzie, where the wolves hide in the back ground
of isle ten. I drown em out I'm not listening. Snarling their teeth dripping drool of false reality through
broken bags and paper cracked necks, I'm not holding back. Here's a little bit of advice. Stop walking around
in those suits and ties, and just live your own life. Oh, I've got mine that were found behind these hollow walls
of doubt that made me stand my ground. I need some saving, oh could you save me. Oh, could save me. We feel this flood rushing over.
We feel this cold November winter when its sober like these eight months should've been. We feel the flood rushing
over when its cold and sober. Like this November winter we'll stand our ground. Sat back, watched everything change
into memories. Painting a storyboard frame with no color. Another heart attack on this basement floor. I threw my fists
at a concrete wall to find out there's so much more to these bloody knuckles than I had hoped for.
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3. |
A Lesson In Humility
03:08
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You'll never realize what you have until it's gone. Moving across state lines to the east coast. Hearing your past mistakes in the form
of this song. We'll let it ring out so you'll never sing along anymore. You'll always be that one note wonder. I'm always looking for structure,
and not another damn lecture from that mouth of yours you call a truth machine. There's a piece inside of me that's there to remind me of
all your lessons in humility. Walking on pins and needles now over all the mistakes that you burdened on everyone. You're not singing this
back to me anymore. While you're making another victim of yourself. Spitting blood all over the floor. California's not singing like before.
so Just stay where you are. You're not needed anymore.
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4. |
Brooklyn
03:50
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Chicago was late again, and all I know is that we're sleeping on the pavement. Listening to words and conversations, forming
bruises on my back. A small caffeinated glow from a coffee cup is enough to keep my hopes up. When its raining its all I
envision. That glow, is enough to keep me pushing through all of this. As were going through the motions of some megabus
bullshit. Gotta make it to the Riviera. Hello, Brooklyn. As I'm looking down your streets I know they're not good for me.
So, hello Brooklyn. This windy city's got us tripping and stumbling over a misread fortune told from the back of my hand.
They're sweating over the grin and the looks of a broken rundown lobby from the view of a worn out sidewalk. Splitting the cracks
in the middle of the afternoon. Farewell, Brooklyn. As I'm looking down your streets I know they're not good for me. So, farewell
Brooklyn. Edge of the deep end now not knowing how to swim. So we'll just jump in and learn to tread water again. Our lungs will
never be this full again.
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5. |
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My back is tired of this broken couch, and lately I've been thinking about what this does to me at 3 A.M. in the morning
when I wake up freezing. Abstract castles through broken skylines, and shattered glass on the pavement reflecting designs
twice the size of what I'm trying to be. Even though it's not good for me I'm taking another swing at left cheek, another
busted tooth. Quick stops and pick me ups, changing so fast around this. Diana's lasting twice as long as me. When my lungs
fill up with water drowning further. At least were making memories. You won't find me walking alone through these trees anymore.
These long lonely branches of green bring the sadness. You won't find me walking alone through this madness, cause branches
keep scratching the fact that you were taking another swing at my heartstrings. Another broken soul. Pick up games of backyard
baseball using gravestones as the bases. I'm rounding third and headed for home and all I see are these ghosts with no faces.
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6. |
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Calm down and take a deep breath to heal that shaky hand. Grab an ink pen off the table top, as a teary eyed abandoned thought gives
the marching orders to cross over the next hill of frost worn goosebumps on my skin. As an army of chills keeps pushing forward, and
and writes these letters to nowhere. So just give me some good news, for once that I can physically hold and hang onto. While the shadows
are dancing around the flames of a lesser man than me. With all the same insecurities, and forced thoughts of what you're told to believe.
It doesn't always read clearly. So look close and make sure that you're free. Make sure that you're free. Slipping and sliding on ice, and
catching red off the tail lights. Under the bridge where the wreckage happened. Digging my self out of gravel and death again. Our bodies
are bruised and broken, but our souls still want to sing out when we're pushed down.
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Now And Then Shelbyville, Indiana
Members:
Lead Singer: Curtis Bennett
Guitar:
Jon Dusenbury
Guitar:
Trevor Dunham
Bass:
Michael Paul
Drums:
Scott Hanneman
... more
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