1. |
CABBAGE
01:20
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2. |
All the Beautiful Things
04:12
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I wish I was never born
I wish I'd never breathed
I wish I had never seen
all the beautiful things
I want to live in a place
where light lay gray upon the pane
and evergreen is not the fir
where words come silent out of mouths
I sought you in the salt
There's a smile in the glass
somewhere in this glass
I held for life
I clung dearly to its hand
I hear you when you say
there's no flesh to set my teeth
like food without taste
it's not easy to say these things
I sought you in the salt
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3. |
At the Altar
07:20
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You don't have to stay here
you don't have to keep this town
rest your mind on the tide of your heart
and leave with the pull of the moon
You don't have to stay here
mining memory:
shadowed recollections of birth
the concrete taste of the rain
What is your hesitation
What do you consider home
Is it something only real to you
or maybe you're running away
You have had to scavenge
for food once plentiful
the birds aren't hard to fight off
it's the hunger that won't go away
I can still hear you
spiriting about my brain, screaming
-Get me off this altar
build your won effigy
Do you remember cherry blossoms softening underfoot in the rain
Do you remember wandering the villa salty and wet in the rain
Do you remember the earth at Tabor overpowering, senseless and vague
Do you remember the earth, burning, at the altar
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4. |
Guillotine
03:34
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Put me in a book and watch me fade away
Bury me page by page
And remove the flowers from my grave
I don't want to be a memory
I don't want to be held onto
I don't want to be your memory
there to comfort you
Cut me from stone to watch me break
Fix me up a tomb
And lay a candle at my feet
I don't want to be a memory
I don't want to be held onto
I don't want to be your memory
I don't want to be your fool
There is peace at the cusp of the horizon
as the dark gives way to the sun
There is quiet at the cusp of the horizon
as the body guillotined from the head
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5. |
The Gardener
05:55
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In my backyard I've buried myself
I did it rather quickly so to see the scab of earth from freshly
A daily reminder of what caused you harm
There on that plot I've planted some plants
They're doing quite nicely
They are following all of my plans
I guess it had to happen
Science is awfully certain
What once was living now is rotting like a stump on the ground
Feeding the garden, thus feeding the gardener
In the kitchen
Sits the food we feed on
The table isn't broken we just have some getting used to, darling
And in the bedroom
Lies the image of my love
The sheets are kinda dirty but smell will never make us hungry
A gentle reminder of what is coming
A tender reminder of what is coming
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6. |
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Under cover of a bald shining night
do you find the secret of your lies
lying beside you in bed?
Under cover of a bald shining night
does she rise from the depths of your loneliness
and smile
at the darkness
in the combs of your heart,
soothing your skin
like a blanket?
Shall I go to the corner post
to hide under the lamp
amid the exhaustion of my brain?
Shall I ask you to dance
with my eyes, my diffidence,
concealing the weight of my tongue
in the waning light?
It's getting old now
fading like graphite
Follow it
such a guide the light
(don't look too long)
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7. |
Apocalypse Blues
02:17
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Sometimes I find it hard to be a man in the land of the dead.
The bones I climb out of this pit crumble
at the weight of my flesh
So I look for someone,
some body still living
amid the dead, and I am lost
to the world
Sometimes I find it hard to see good in a land without eyes.
The words I read all rot in my mind
Ah! I can't tell a lie from a lie
So I look to the east
and I look to the west
and I can't help but feel a little lost
to the world
Do you believe me?
The food I eat: hot coals to my tongue
Oh! how I long to be young
Sometimes I find it hard to be strong with my heart, hardly beating at all.
So I sharpen the dull
from my knife and prepare
a feast to the loss
of the world
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8. |
Winter Crop
03:42
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-hey little cabbage
pull back your leaves
reveal your heart
let me kiss your red cheeks
-hey little angel
don't hide that precious head
winter's come
let us feed to ward off the dead
and oh the cold's begun
but in you the warmth of the sun
-hey little cabbage
pretty little thing
in snow buried streets
you can't help but sing
-oh beloved
you've done a hard thing
you've gone and made a fool
again
but of course you already knew
creatures like you always do
-hey little cabbage
do I haunt your dreams
when I pluck you from your bed
to eat
-oh!
how bitter we become
when unripe she's lifted up
the bitter one
but of course we already knew
creatures like us always do
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james cox Nashville, Tennessee
Check out Native Magazine's review of ANNA
issuu.com/nativenashville/docs/issue16
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