1. |
These Things
01:49
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how stupid of me
to think you'd wanna laugh with me
and walk around the park and hold my sleeves
to think you'd see in me
the things i'd always wanted you to see
now i'm walkin' home alone
and i wish i'd worn my boots tonight,
but the forecast called for rain and we got snow
mom says you learn from these things
but i don't know
not once on my walk home did i think
"at least i got the chance to fucking grow"
i'm learning new things all the time
like how to hold my whiskey
and how to transcribe feelings into rhyme
how to hold my breath
and suffocate the memory of your eyes
now i'm halfway home
so i'll compare the pigments
in the colors of the stoplights and my nose
mom says you learn from these things
but i don't know
not once on my walk home did i think
"at least i got the chance to fucking grow"
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2. |
Bluebird
03:19
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you heard
you'd never touch the sky without a hand
you learned
you'd never see your face again once the mirrors in your house return to sand
see her
bluebird perched atop my windowpane
songbird
through tongues that lash and smoke and ash, her melody in my bedroom sustains
you heard
my hands and heart were strong and they were steady
i heard
you hadn't dumped him yet, but you told him and your friend that you were ready
can't say how it came to be
that you were walking home with me
that we would share a space where breath and secrets lurked
and as your knuckles sang to me
in blue and ivory filigree
i said "i must go thank the artist for his work"
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Dot Watson Saratoga Springs, New York
tawdry ribaldry
twinkly queer bedroom pop
trash nymph records
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