1. |
St. Laurent Boulevard
02:44
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when the sunshine ignites
yet our generation never learned how to fight
when the winter walks you home
and sleeps with your bones
when the brittle pages crackle
and the ideas are hard to tackle
when the ignorant frown
and bow their heads to the ground:
don't acquiesce! don't acquiesce!
i say "don't acquiesce!"
when the espresso brews too much
and you hate the hot water's touch
when the branches reach down to poke
and you notice the absence of hope
don't acquiesce!
but when affection chases after you
catches up and smothers you
i say "acquiesce."
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2. |
With Dancing Butterflies
04:16
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stepping out of the mail room,
of my new england liberal arts college
i put my headphones on
and start strolling across the lawn
the strings swell so loud
as the sun breaks through the clouds
and the early autumn breeze,
so so fucking chilly
it carries me with dancing butterflies,
past the end of the world
where in a clearing i find a weird fire pit
who knows what kinds of freaky deaky shit
has gone down out there
i shiver & i think
of my sweater collection
literally falling apart at the seams
the cuffs and sleeves
are trying to leave me
with a collection of woolen muscle Ts
and as i climb
the hill in time
with the music the butterflies slow
to a stop and let me go
go, go on dancing alone
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3. |
Frost
03:13
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frost has frozen all the grass blades
and statued them this night
they sparkle not like silver or stars
but as king arthur's sword
the lady of the lake
has come and gone
but left a train
of greyblue ripples in her wake
firefly flames flicker
around many wasted hours
we do what we will do
when the moon is out
and the window open slightly
lets snakes of air through
they will watch us, and chill us
until the morning's slight green light comes to wake us
sleep comes slow to me:
only after your breathing has quieted
and there are no more creaking doors
then my muscles loosten up
to let my limbs forget
that they are in a bed
near other limbs
that is when
sleep comes to me
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4. |
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the view from inside this glass house
is a wide expanse
of forest and sculpture and telephone wire
when i send my gaze north
the reflection of umber hills
& the ball of fire collide
and drag me outside
where the garden grows
and prayer flags blow
above the broken typewriters
writing to a far away friend
i wish with each key i press
that the two of us will be able to handle this
i will drink as much coffee as i want to
my shins will splinter
descending the steeper hill
and i'll slide through the mud
pelted by rain
but my determinaton will remain
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5. |
Cranberries
03:35
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this is the day
and this is the place
where i will finally say
what i'm really thinking
i won't hide behind my mind
all of the time
stepping over cranberries red
littered among the orange dead
a poem by l. cohen
will shout out in the open
"my lady can sleep
upon a hankercheif
or if it be fall
upon a fallen leaf" o-o-o
"i have seen the hunters
kneel before her hem
even in her sleep
she turns away from them" o-o-o
"the only gift they offer
is their abiding greif
i pull out my pockets
for a hankercheif or leaf" o-o-o
and i don't know whether
i can bend like leather
because this is the day
and this is the place
where i will finally say
what i'm really thinking
i won't save it for a song
that will end up too long
i'll say it once, wipe away the lies
then say it again, with the locking of eyes
o-o-o
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6. |
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7. |
Blizzard Of Ice
03:17
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is this what it is like
to be let into that blizzard of ice?
standing on a glossy hardwood floor
with bare feet & the blown open door
dry snow twirling in a ballet tornado
who knows how long this will last
tonight my room is a ship at half mast
the white down comforter
matches the blanket outside...
& it is on days like this that i
sit up in bed
and let your goodnight
echo in my head
i gaze out at the cement backyards
where squirrels are putting on
full scale puppet shows
& i & toss & i turn.
this is what matters
this is what resounds
this book in tatters
this heartbeat that pounds
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8. |
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i'm going to run
to battle the cold
i'm going to run
to battle feeling old
i'm certainly not athletic,
but i can sprint like a maniac,
let's go! no one has to know!
slow down. i say it again, "slow down,
let your feet really touch the grownd."
the way i move
is an attempt to prove
that i'd like to dance in this courtyard,
even in these branches.
i'd like to be awake next to this fishtank,
when dawn comes.
i'd like share this chair & embrace
no matter where we are
i'd like to stand on this log & kiss & talk
but now i'm going to run!
out of my internalizing mind
now i'm going to run!
to somewhere where i can find
a place to slow down,
to let my feet really touch the ground.
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9. |
Snowflake Dots
03:34
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bright sun shooting
through the cracks between buildings
tall
in montréal
a pidgeon is flying
over cobblestone squares
this is stereotypical
and i love it
cars moored in the street
like boats frozen in the harbor
it is definitely...definitely winter
the crunch the crunch as i walk a bunch
taking in picture after after picture,
panel after panel,
place after place
this is my version of being an expatriot
i'll draw the woods and the small house in our future
i'll draw trains and cities out of snowflake dots
[you and mornings...good coffee and you...]
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10. |
April
03:51
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on the little screen
i just saw me
in my old days
in my old ways
there was rain
gathering into pools
rippling on long walks after school
there was green
saturated green covering the world
as the breeze and the droplets whirled
now i'm under a hood
gazing out to see the white woods
what i want right now is for the ground
to be springing forgotten flowers up
it's april, please stop snowing
the only way to get this movement going
is to hold hands and spin and stomp
and dance dance dance dance
let's make the most and raise a toast
to our privelaged educations
and then, lilacs and grassblades one by one
will summon the sun
and make this springtime come
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11. |
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this morning i am singing
into an empty hallway
this monday morning i'm thinking
of you at work in brooklyn
and your green facepaint triangles
and your blue wax paper coffee cup
yesterday i saw
a limestone statue of
a boy and a girl arm in arm
on bench under twinkle tree lights
so let's start a revolution you and me
we can beat the bad world up with beauty
let's start a revolution you and me
we can beat the bad world up with beauty
let's start a revolution
you and me
we can beat
the bad world up with beauty
that morning i was singing
into an empty hallway
that whole winter i was thinking
of you at work in brooklyn
and your green face paint triangle
and blue wax-paper coffee cup
that one afternoon in perfect light i saw
i limestone statue of
a boy and a girl arm in arm
they were sharing an apple
on a bench under twinkle tree lights
and i thought
we should start a revolution
she and me
and now i think
we should start a revolution
everyone here & everyone there
& everyone everywhere
we can beat
the bad world up with beauty...
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Advrb Portland, Oregon
Andrew Barton plays, sings, and records as Advrb.
Kellen Hopfner sings with
him.
Josh Bay plays cello and electric piano.
Elisabeth Ryan plays drums.
Joshua James Amberson plays bass.
The band sounds both quiet and loud.
... more
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