1. |
Fragile Feeling
02:38
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Follow a trail of kicked up sand, that ends at the water and starts at the van— that was the summer I’ll always remember as the one I broke up my band. The one where the waves crashed over the rocks and we watched from the cove, searching the salt air for words that weren’t there. Words we’d never find. That was the summer I’ll always remember as the one I left Josh behind. The one I learned how fragile a feeling could be. Like the way the wind passes through your hair as you run towards an ocean, shoes in the black sand, chasing the shadow of someone you aren’t anymore.
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2. |
Gone Things
01:42
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I wonder where they went? The things we felt when we were kids. When there was a purpose to everything we did. Like driving to New Jersey to play to a crowded room, or taking off our shirts, blowing kisses at the moon. Time is moving faster than I want it— the days are months are years and I wanted more from them. I wonder where they went? I wish could find them, know them as more than gone things. I wish that I could slow down.
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3. |
Dust
02:09
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Speaking of the things I lost somewhere, I have’t wrote a song in years. At least not the kind I used to write— the kind that had meaning and heart inside. So I’m left to ask myself: what have I been doing? Besides riding off of the minor successes of high school bands, desperately holding on to memories I have. Of driving home in my dad’s van late at night from Michigan— of the way the wind passes through your hair as you… Speaking of the things I lost somewhere, I haven’t had a voice in years. Anymore dust comes out when I scream loud and I’m left coughing up old feelings.
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4. |
The Way of Flesh
02:29
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With a phone call the sun goes out, and everyone moves at once— a procession of sorrow marching in time to the delicate rhythm of a world without light. The weight of it bears down on her, and I watch. And I watch.
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5. |
Lost Boy
02:21
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Ever since the Black Beach I have been searching for something that can take me back. I just want to see the waves crashing on the rocks, Mason next to me, both of us a lost boy at sea. Because I just want to feel again. Anymore it’s fleeting, the way it comes, the way it goes. And I don’t think about it all the time, but when I do? I am left to ask myself: where have I been going? I’ve been chasing a trail of kicked up sand, that ends at the water and starts at the van.
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