1. |
Highway
04:39
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Summer time, days get a little longer
well I can't see the snow through the forest
In a town that I call a summer home
any other time, any other place
well I'd burn it to the ground.
she lifts me up
but I don't mind
until I find another path to a place covered in vines.
she lifts me up
but not that often any more
I'm on a highway
In my wake
I see black clouds getting longer
well I can't see the snow through the forest
winter time, dead boy you get stronger
well I can't see the trees, for the sleet
she lifts me up
but I don't mind
until I find another path to a place covered in vines
she lifts me up
but not that often any more
i'm on a highway,
Highway.
We're on a highway.
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2. |
Tractor Beam
03:23
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A tractor beam
follows the same path -- in between.
and I'm overwhelmed by all the comfort
when it fell
over the seven seas
now it's over
but I can see a million miles
ray of light
find a new way
it's been long
and you're tired.
took my time
found a new road
back to me
go, bloodshot eyes
you were once searchers
now you're idle
I'm overwhelmed
ill at ease,
ill at health.
Suddenly, I am blind
well it's not much
but i'm easily satisfied
Ray of light
find a new way
it's been long
and you're tired.
took my time
found a new way
back to me.
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3. |
||||
No reason to enjoy this
seasonal disappointment
the doctor said i'm a winter baby
now they've conjoined us
a harsh fool, with harsher times
they told me i'm a winter baby
I was born on december 16
born and raised on the primitive dream.
No reason to rejoice in
the figments of my cold skin
I sing, and snow starts to fall.
sometimes it's poison,
other times it's wine;
it's day to day,
and nothing's for certain.
I was raised on the soil and seeds
that would sow a primitive dream.
no reason to enjoy this
the figments of my cold pen.
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4. |
Soul Machines
02:13
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My heart is like a four stroke on fire
my land is wrough with luxury
now you got a modern man
gotta put him under the flames
'cause he's a soul machine.
my love is as safe as winter tires
my mind is primitive and clean
take out a city girl, gotta put her back in the shade
'cause she's a soul machine.
well the question here is 'what do we need for soul survival?'
maybe something good to read and a litre of good oil.
my heart is like a mad man up on the wire
looking down at the tops of trees
now you got a country boy
gotta put him back in the soil
'cause he's a soul machine.
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5. |
The Civilian in Me
02:36
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and if we found a native voice
no more worrying about time and place
another house burns down in the early hours
now I never look to the east for fear that i'll get pulled
over the hills I saw the future
and in my wake, I know it is I
the primitive one.
if you go what would we offer?
what would you offer?
and if I found another place
would you notice by all the changes in my face
and if we crossed another sea
would it bring out the civilian in
me?
over the hills I saw the future
and in my wake, I know it is I
the primitive one
if you go what would we offer?
what would you offer?
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6. |
Space Traveler
03:35
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space travel
is as easy to play as a pocket game
while all the worn projectiles
will curse the adept child.
the shape i'm in
doesn't really matter in the end
we're defective
worn projectiles.
coming to terms with the wicked ones
is as easy to read as assembly lines
while after market bastards
still rip apart the asphalt.
the shape i'm
doesn't really matter in the end
we're defective
worn projectiles.
i've got mind
to reach out to the primitive
leave the home i'm living in
and find something fine.
and with the time,
I'd write the model citizen
and find the time to rescind
to the idiot
sublime.
Space traveler,
you're as easy to read as a picture book.
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7. |
Grifter Justice
03:42
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maybe i've always been a hothead
I never trust flourescent lights
it might be fever
but brother it's killing me
and we still know that
sudden jerks don't mix with driving.
oh but love comes between us
at the worst times.
Maybe i've always been a pothead
I never trust flourescent lights
it might be fever
sure as hell ain't sympathy
and we will know that
sudden jerks don't mix with driving.
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8. |
Stay Low
04:24
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Her name
was twisting, burnin', building
a flame on those who lay their charm
in a corner left untouched by
pastors, poets, priests and thieves;
'come with me'
she said 'come with me'
he came
despite the wishes of the pastor
proclaimed 'neither god nor master'
and now the time's right
fortune screams.
this one came from the heart of the vast pacific dream.
stay low.
now I'm neither safe nor sorry
I gained ten years spent in worry
but now the time's right, I can tell.
I saw her face on a high road back to hell.
stay low.
and you might find yourself in the distance
hate, pains, coming to terms with ease;
she is the one who painted all her surroundings
and left the heavy strokes
on me.
stay low.
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