1. |
August
04:31
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Aphids bled from the willow
Wading, washing my garments
Yellow lace in the water
Oh go to Hell with your paradise
I know full well I was meant for these times
Oh for the love of Christ Darlene
Shut the damn door
Sweet scent of plums half fermented
Rough wine, stains on the blanket
Young love, healthy and certain
Death lives only at distance
Oh go to Hell with your paradise
I know full well I was meant for these times
Oh for the love of Christ Darlene
Shut the damn door
Old buck splayed on a mud lap
Apron shot up with marsh grass
August, buzzing with deerflies
Closer into the true light
Oh go to Hell with your paradise
I know full well I was meant for these times
Oh for the love of Christ Darlene
Shut the damn door
They’re not coming home from the war
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2. |
Tigers Make Milk
04:39
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I was gonna write you a letter
Cause you like old-fashioned shit
But you know by now I never got around to it
Now I answer the door with a knife in my hand
Same old hunters come to call again
And it shouldn’t really shock me by now but it’s electric
You said the truth is never in the middle
It’s always one extreme
But even tigers make milk
There could be another side to me
I thought the rocks were horses But I did see horses too
It was a moment of weakness
I never should have cut loose
But don’t you see the sparkling desert
Can’t you sort of hear it too
Don’t you feel the diamond in the way I’m riding you
You said the truth is never in the middle
It’s always one extreme
But even tigers make milk
There could be another side to me
And I’ll try not to cut so close
And I’ll try not to cut so quick
And I’ll try to let you catch your breath between my dagger twists
A portrait of a legend
No one will ever exceed
Cause we worship the dead and don’t let the living breathe
But hey, bring the dead man over
Press his fingers to the strings
And he can conjure up the fire of love much better than me
You said the truth is never in the middle
It’s always one extreme
But even tigers make milk
There could be another side
And I guess what I feel most of all is sorry for myself
And I’ll never let you catch your breath
I’ll never let you catch your breath
I’ll never let you catch your breath
I’ll never let you catch your breath
And I’ll try not to cut so close
And I’ll try not to cut so quick
And I’ll try, oh how I’ll try
To let you in, to let you in
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3. |
Mary of Rain
04:08
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Your sweater is a mesh of the faces of wolves
It’s possible I looked too long
Like the road disappears when you’ve driven all day
In an oil slick haze, a mirage of regret-free
Love and hate in the misinformation age
Mary of rain
Mary of rain
I’m a slow learner baby
I bloom too late
Then you pull back my curtains
And a dagger of daylight
Rends my red-eyed reverie
And I don’t know why you’d ever wait for me
Well I certainly never could stay tame for long
Mary of rain
Mary of rain
Always the birthday girl
All her ribbons in curls
What rewards to those
Who wait
We were all raised by wolves
Our clean clothes hung to dry
Out on lines in the sun
But the rain always comes and Washes them cleaner
Than wolves could have done anyway
Mary I’ll drive all day
Mary of rain
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4. |
Tickets and Tapes
04:19
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Stood thigh deep in the floodwater
Boxes of things from my teenage years
Tickets and tapes
Drawings I’d made
I lost everything I had not thought to elevate
I had to make do with
the new and less lovingly made
I caught a runaway dog in my arms
She was kind and wild and warm
Like a foreign radio signal ringing true
And we do what we hate to do
We do what we
hate to do
Slowly brutalized
over time
Only trying to tranquilize
Sing silver lines
And make numbers rhyme
I missed so much while I waited to trust myself
I had to make do with the mirror that shrinks and swells
I caught a runaway dog in my arms
She was kind and wild and warm
Like a foreign radio signal
Ringing true
I had to make peace with the friends I don’t need
And the truth I don’t trust
And the dead I don’t grieve
And the blood I don’t bleed
And the books I don’t read
And the lovers I don’t like much
But I still let in
I caught a runaway dog in my arms
She was kind and wild and warm
Like a foreign radio signal
Ringing true
I had to make peace with the friends I don’t need
And the truth I don’t trust
And the dead I don’t grieve
And the blood I don’t bleed
And the books I don’t read
And the lovers I don’t like much
But I still let in
And I don’t even question it
I don’t even question it
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Claire Tucker Seattle, Washington
Singer-songwriter from Seattle. Loose Wing bandleader.
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