1. |
No More Stones
03:48
|
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|
There is rope connecting you and I,
but we’re running out of slack.
And I could cut the tension with a knife,
but I’d rather put it in your back.
I’m an untrained verbal grenadier;
My words explode when I aim to be sincere.
There is war between us,
but there’s no more stones
left to throw.
Enough is enough,
there’s no more stones
left to throw.
And when you show me your shoulder,
it feels like I’ve been run over.
Now our companionship smoulders.
Let it go, this is over.
Now I throw my arms down to the side,
and I buckle to my knees
as an offering of peace.
But you refuse to meet me eye-to-eye,
so I climb back upon my steed
and hostility proceeds.
I’m an untrained verbal grenadier;
My words explode when I aim to be sincere.
There is war between us,
but there’s no more stones
left to throw.
Enough is enough,
there’s no more stones
left to throw.
And when you show me your shoulder,
it feels like I’ve been run over.
Now our companionship smoulders.
Let it go, this is over.
|
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2. |
Hope Is A Gateway Drug
03:58
|
|||
|
Now I’m walking
through a field,
frozen grass,
and I’m holding an empty glass.
It’s 3am again.
And I might be half in the bag
but I could’ve sworn you were looking my way when you said that you
didn’t want tonight to end.
But hope is such a gateway drug,
it lets me believe I can steal your love.
Hope is such a gateway drug,
I can’t let go of the idea of us.
And all day
I try to anticipate what you will say but I’m
never right,
I’m an unstable blend of confident shy.
You said take this hope that I scored,
then it didn’t kick in so I kept on ingesting more.
I just can’t seem to fill my small empty space.
But as always, I don’t have the guts
to open my mouth and spill endless amounts of romantic clichés,
so I just let you walk away.
Hope is such a gateway drug,
it lets me believe I can steal your love.
Hope is such a gateway drug,
I can’t let got of the idea of us.
And all day
I try imagine what life would be like with you
still around
but I’ve fallen so much, now I’m friends with the ground.
|
||||
3. |
VHS Cassette
04:45
|
|||
|
Hey, last night was fun.
How do you like to spend your spare time?
Are you with anyone?
Is there another fish on your line?
Hey, I’ll be the first to reveal
I haven’t gone out in a long time.
Romance is a dusty film reel
up in the attic of my mind.
I’m exhausted.
I’m so tired.
Nothing seems to
light my fire.
For two long years I’ve been a cynical ego-king.
So cover me in gasoline and
burn away my icy demeanor.
Strike a match.
Spark your lighter.
Come in close,
light my fire.
As I lay in the dark,
I found myself hoping
for a combustible spark
- an epiphanic moment.
This is like a VHS cassette,
too much white noise at the start,
but there’s a subtle vignette
to make the edges less hard.
We haven’t seen this one yet
but I bet there’s a good part,
and by the end you’ll forget
the static noise at the start.
I’m exhausted.
I’m so tired.
Nothing seems to
light my fire.
For two long years I’ve been a cynical ego-king.
So cover me in gasoline and
burn away my icy demeanor.
Strike a match.
Spark your lighter.
Come in close,
light my fire.
In between the hedgerow,
we were goin’ our separate ways
- out of an old TV show
on a VHS cassette tape.
You said there was something I should know,
you we’re riding the waves of a never-ending shipwreck.
Our eyes met,
you moved close,
and now you’re on a shelf in my head.
Now you’re a VHS Cassette
sitting on a shelf in my head.
|
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4. |
Mountains
04:44
|
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|
We’re all ascending a mountain that we’ve made in our minds.
We think obsessively about our mountains all of the time.
You’ve got yours,
and I’ve got mine,
but to reach either peak, we must help each other climb.
No one’s gonna do it for you,
there are no stepping stones,
‘cause at the core we’re all alone.
I’m sick of hopeless remarks from everybody I know,
they say there is no peak,
there is no pot of gold.
Now I’m on the shore of the largest lake
and I’m dying of thirst no matter how much I take.
But my will is strong
metamorphic rock,
you can knock me down
but you won’t see me break.
You won’t see me break.
I could bow to myself
and drive all my friends away,
‘cause almost every day
my mountain begs me to break
but I stare it back in the face
and I speak the following phrase:
Oh, my past accomplishments don’t make me great,
it’s how I conduct myself face-to-face.
I’ll be remembered more for my mistakes.
I’ll shatter vanity.
I will not break.
Though I’ve learned to scale all types of social terrain,
for every friendship I forge, I leave one in my wake.
But my will is strong
metamorphic rock,
you can knock me down
but you won’t see me break.
You won’t see me break.
|
||||
5. |
Looking Down
00:52
|
|||
6. |
The Sled
04:17
|
|||
|
I never thought I’d become anything
like what I am today.
I always hoped some force of nature
would illuminate the way.
But now I see there’s no such thing as fate
I am the sum of the choices I make.
High atop the steepest hill
for miles around,
looking down with fear and dread.
I was just about to fall,
I could no longer bear the weight
when you built me a sled.
I never thought I needed anyone
to keep my fears at bay.
I always fought to hold my head up high
when you turned and walked away.
I never thought I’d be afraid
of being alone when my soul decays.
High atop volcanic rock
on crumbling ground;
my head was heavier than lead.
It could’ve been the altitude,
I was fading either way,
when you built me a sled.
Ride this phase out,
to hell with doubt.
|
||||
7. |
Souvenir
04:08
|
|||
|
I know most of you have never been in a band
but I will do my best to help you understand;
It’s like being in a relationship with 3 or 4 or 5 of your best friends.
We combine emotions and turn them into songs,
it’s like a support group – a shoulder to lean on.
A band is pretty much a family, we help each other out when things go wrong.
I thought I’d gotten good at adjusting to change
but I feel sick, I feel conflicted, I’m a one-man debate.
And I’ve had my heart broken in dozens of ways
but I’ve never suffered through a musical heartbreak.
I sit in my room and sing countless melodies,
I don’t chase down my words, I let them come to me,
but lately all that I can think about is how I wish you didn’t have to leave.
I’ve been writing music for about 7 years,
if we hadn’t met I wouldn’t have persevered.
It’s been an honour to create with you, so I thank you with this souvenir.
I thought I’d gotten good at adjusting to change
but I feel sick, I feel conflicted, I’m a one-man debate.
And I’ve had my heart broken in dozens of ways
but I’ve never suffered through a musical heartbreak.
Farewell, my friends,
the creative side of me is in denial,
it wants to write you this song,
it wants to call you at 4AM
to change your mind.
Farewell, my friends,
to the logical side of my brain – this makes sense
‘cause time is a currency and we’re all our of hours to spend.
Time is a currency and we’re all out of hours to spend.
|
||||
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