1. |
Dako
04:02
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2. |
Hero Worship
03:47
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We all know those old stories about the devil
handin' some poor young fellow a fiddle made of precious gems
Well there might be some truth to that if you replace the kings with pawns
That is, accept this metaphor
If you pleasure,
Please accept this metaphor
A small animal scurries across wooden boards
His claws work their ways into the grain
A strange old liar echos up from a puddle that listens after the rain
A man in boots makes his way towards the guard
They both know the dance, so they jig
A Jag and a zig and a zag or two later
And the man with no friends has one more
He follows in footsteps of great ones before him
He feels all the pressure the legacy brings
He falls to his knees before the great fountain
And bellows a victory scream
He finds a word in his breast pocket
The bridge is his capture, a herald is he
Then barreling perilously into the sea
Without mercy, without great regret
Without hot hatred, no retreat, no surrender
No swimming upstream, no begging, no pleading
No green bargaining
Wither river flows, our hero goes
With satin robes and pierced earlobes
Yeah, many a Mani believed in these clothes
Dressed up with beads and animal bones
And white collars and bow ties
And great big feathered hats
All manner of dress has the past often taken
With each iteration the spirit awakens
With purpose, with wide eyes
A reprise of subliminal size
A blast from the past brings the present to end
And shortly thereafter, the future
A new form of tense begins
Not before or after
But 'Now' is a temporal rafter
He steps out of the stream
Turns into steam
And ascends into realities seam
Now bless your kind ears for listening truly
To this tale old as time told once more
May you feast yourselves fully on laughter and kindness
And forever, keep love on your mantle
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3. |
Mi Idim Id I
00:58
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4. |
Rappbthrice
02:02
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Track title pronounced "Three times, really? Go buy a dictionary!"
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5. |
Hey (Hey)
03:55
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I'm pretty certain if I answer this call
It'll lead to nothing at all
She wants something I'm not giving away
By the dawn of a dimwit past
I see footsteps in the glass
There isn't much tread left
To keep walking this way
I feel like everyone kept on singin' when I was sighin'
People laughin' 'n carryin' on when I was dyin'
Hey, hey We're not alone
I'm way up, I've got a highrise view
Holdin' my breath, countin' t' two
Now, she shakes strong
But I ain't chasin' no tail
It's a delicate situation I've built here all along
Plastic cups and chicken bones
But it's mine
And only love can open the doors
So, I listened to only one tape over many miles
So, I turned the light way down low in my eyes
So, I tried and rose above the lines
So, it is never not sublime
Hey, hey We're not alone
There's a message on the phone
But I'm better here at home
And it's better to get it while you can
True, it's Friday night again
And the bars fill up with pretty men
And women drink for free
And smile like something's bland
When I work, I work for the dream
When I wind down, I take my leave
Hey, hey We're not alone
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George Burl
George Burl is a songwriter, producer and something akin to a record label. He is not a person. He is a pseudonym. A philosophical experiment conceived in a small cottage in Nebraska, birthed in the Redwood forests of California and distilled in the hills of Tennessee. ... more
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