1. |
Little Man Long Arm
02:26
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What power bestowed this ugly face
That did bring balance to an unbalanced space?
Where grace and truth are not but words
And misery runs rampant when they go unheard?
I spilled my guys to find a heart that works like mine,
To see you care like I care, to know I’m not wasting my time.
So I’ll reach into the dark to bring your empty world some light;
So I’ll reach into the dark to bring you back to life.
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2. |
Grave Robber
02:23
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Who provided a solution? Who may claim the smoking gun?
I cannot be held accountable for what you have become.
You cheat. You thief. You ghoul. You murderer.
You fell her and watched her burn as you deserve.
Tell me, why is it that you keep coming back to those you’ve hurt?
Are you Damien or is this evil something you have earned?
Not but a branch I will be until you grow to me.
No! You can’t have her.
My roots go deeper than the extent of your desire;
Should you be false, I’ll make a home for you in fire.
One with the ground. Immovable.
Father Oak. I won’t let you lay a finger on her.
No! You can’t have her.
Tell me, why is it that you keep coming back to those you’ve hurt?
Will you grow to me or is this face of evil not but words?
Back off! Ghoul! Murderer! Tyrant! Coward!
Just try and reach.
My roots go deep.
I am Father Oak.
You can't have her.
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3. |
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The message is worn but it stays with the blade.
When I’m falling apart, when I’m begging for aid
A part of him is always with me.
I remember where it came from.
The scars on his hands are much of the man.
He’s a story to tell but won’t speak of the past;
Instead smiles upon what’s to come
And greets it with patient arms.
If this is my great suffering
It is only relative to his finest moment-
My father, the sage
With smiling eyes and the sharpest blade
That he did gift to me.
“Remember where that came from, kid”
Am I just like him? I wear his eyes.
The truth is I’m distant because it hurts to know I’m different.
It hurts to know I could only ever be half the man he is.
Father, tell me, am I doing right by you?
Dad, have I grown right into your shoes?
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4. |
Playing God
04:39
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I promise I can breathe for the both of us.
Just set your wings on me;
I could be that feathered thing caught in the breeze.
And when the winds change,
There’s no keeping me from taking all we’ve made.
A silent struggle, a picture no speech could ever capture.
So don’t weep.
Just turn back my son. Hearken!
Just turn back before you lose your head.
I will handle this on my own the way I always have.
I’ll strike with the snake’s tongue and the might of a thousand furies
To keep them away, to keep the beasts at bay.
But when I’m forced to face a lie I wonder
Does it hurt to know I let you live?
Walk on, boy; my patience is wearing thin.
I am not the sum of my apologies.
I am not one to be taken advantage of.
But still I love you, somehow I love you.
I wish you the best, now go home.
I could only hold on for so long.
We’ve come to a bittersweet end.
I left your wings at the door where you can take up what I left off.
My boy, my boy, how I love you, god knows how much I love you.
But my boy, my boy, don’t you lie to me, don’t you ever lie to me.
I’ll strike with the snake’s tongue and the might of a thousand furies.
Just back off my son.
Does it hurt to know I let you live?
God forbid what I’d do to you if you’d turn your back on me.
I’d strike with the snake’s tongue and the might of a thousand furies
To keep you away, to keep your beasts at bay.
But you can still trust me to fight the monsters that hide under your bed.
I can shield you from the fire that rains down from the sky.
I’ll beat you until you’re numb so you never hurt again.
I’ll cut holes in your eyelids so you can see at night.
Lately I pray the sky would grant me one last flight.
And how I love the dirty word that bleeds me like a knife.
I’ll fight myself until my limbs grow sore before admitting I’m a coward.
I swear I’m no coward.
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5. |
The Pharmacist
02:45
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So lately I’ve been drinking all your pain up through my straw
While you sift the folds of my brain to dig the truth out from my thoughts.
Keep your thieving hands away; I detest your filthy paws.
I’ve seen more strength in children, seen more discipline in dogs.
Just one more time.
Let me get my fix.
Give me one more hit.
Take a load off, kid.
Claim a host you parasite.
I won’t be the one who bleeds for you anymore.
Look at yourself. Make a change before it’s too late.
Allow me to step in parasites!
I’ll tear it from your throats.
Back you devils!
One by one you’ll fall, I’ll kill ‘em all. Death to you.
One by one you’ll hurt more than you knew you could.
Death to you, parasites.
You are not wanted here.
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6. |
Panhandling
02:37
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How the foundation shook! My thought was overlooked.
Old man, tell me of the old days,
Tell me of the new world,
Tell me of the old ways-
When weak bodies could hold their weight on their own
And a man truly reaped what he sowed.
This is not the world I know.
The stronger man holds the smaller stone.
Would you stand for this?
Would you raise a fist protest?
I’ve tried to find the courage to be the one who sparks a revolution.
I’m begging to know the things you know.
I’m begging for the strength to stand on my own.
I’ve grown weak.
I’ve hung my head in defeat.
Leave me be. Let me wallow in shame;
I’ll find someone else to blame.
The foundation shook! Courage is overlooked.
Old man, tell me of the old days,
Tell me of the new world,
Tell me of the old ways.
This is not the world I know.
The stronger man holds the smaller stone.
I fear I’ve found my place.
I’ve claimed a home. The bed is made.
I’d rather lay down and die.
I’ll make my own way.
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7. |
A Darker Pasture
04:13
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The mirror makes nothing of potential,
Makes no sheep a better man.
It brings a darker pasture:
A lowly state where the best of hopes may be misplaced.
You look beautiful just as you stand.
Only your heart can strengthen your hand.
Pick your head up; you’re wasting your time.
That mirror has kept you from doing what’s right.
Your stomach as empty as your head.
When is your quota met?
When all that’s left is bone?
You’re beautiful, I know.
So take a step back. Look away.
We will all be dead someday and just ugly as sin.
But may the things we’ve done serve as keystones to our memory.
A picture paints nothing of potential,
Helps no weak strengthen a hand.
It brings a darker pasture:
A lowly state where the best of hopes have been misplaced.
Love yourself, it’s all you can do.
That mirror will lead to the death of you.
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8. |
My Mother's Quilt
03:59
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My mother, the saint.
Alone in her room she prays
For her boy to get his head straight
On the eve of 1998.
Kid, you’ve got to live day by day;
Find your purpose, a reason to wake.
It’s been years, mom, but look what I’ve made.
I was eight years old when the pain took it’s hold,
When my stomach caught the burn
Like a man with a lie in his throat and blood on his hands.
I buried my head. I thought about ending it.
Because sleep is easy but I’ll have to wake again.
She swallowed the hurt and went away to work
With a sound heart and nimble fingers to remind us of her warmth.
How many people has she met?
How many problems has she taken on?
But she’s still standing. She’s still standing.
What fabric may stand the test of time?
What selection is most pleasing to the eye?
What stitch may hold this patchwork together?
It’s been years since my construction and I think I’m doing fine.
I’m still standing.
It’s still worth it.
I’m still breathing.
Found my purpose.
When the morning sun hits these hooded eyes,
With my back straight and my head held high,
I’ll do my best to bring your empty world some light.
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