1. |
Williamsburg Bridge
04:08
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Love it sinks it teeth into my neck, a goddamn car wreck impossible to keep in check.
Where do I go? Where do I find? What does it take to get some peace of mind?
A bone begins to break. A feeling starts to shake. And a bridge forms in my head while you’re seeing red.
But we flow through it all.
And I fell through it all.
Where does time go? And I wonder.
Where does time go? Time to falter.
The son of god can’t help but breathe down my back
A heart of hearts can’t help but always feel attacked
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2. |
Dream Caster
02:52
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I can’t see another way to go about this; my heart runs in circles, my head running with it. I look for a way out, my feet glued in place and I just want to reach out to untie my shoelaces. Let’s please just go to the unknown, where our dreams go to die real slow. I want to tell you that I thought it was worth it, but I can’t lie anymore under the sycamores.
We wait, just break, tomorrow’s another day.
New shoes, high moon brings on another typhoon.
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3. |
Ocean Parkway Interlude
01:03
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4. |
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Being here it clears my mind, away from all of humankind. It’s something I can get behind, a form of prose without a rhyme. The sand is warm, but I’m so cold, why can’t I stop feeling alone? I came to the fork, I was told I’d traveled down the safest road. It’s weak to talk about all this, restraint that I could only wish for in this facade of a brain, a metaphor I can’t relate. I stare out at the rising tide, my sunblock only half-applied. Oddly enough, I can’t deny that this all makes me feel alive
I know that there is something else, another book on top a shelf. With pages blank and still so worn filled by some twenty-five year old. I’ll get it together today, a price someone will have to pay and my palms they begin to sweat, my heart still bursting from my chest. I want to feel alive again instead of feeling all this dread repeating up inside my head (repeating up inside my head) Put my hard feelings on a shelf, invite my own personal hell. Is it ok that I am here? I’ll someday live here without fear.
I feel fine; a fine line drawn in a thick chalk outline. I’m still dead though I see red, spin a web at the beachhead.
It is a mystery wrapped inside of history, a fresher change of scenery; I wonder at the greenery. A house that can’t feel like a home and then I start to lose control; a form without a show of pose, pathetic excuse for a soul.
Hold onto me; if the deep end comes will I know it’ll set me free? A universal race, do I run in place? If I change my look, if I change my fate? If I change my mind, will it make up time? If I follow the trail, is my life still mine? Just hold onto me. If the deep end comes will I know to stop and breathe? And if the green light shines, will I be too blind to see? And if the deep end comes, well I know it’s up to me. Just hold onto me.
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5. |
The Wonder Wheel
02:31
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There’s a place that I should go that I can’t find by laying in bed.
A fear of heights defines me in my struggle for a statement unsaid.
Please can we go somewhere quiet where I’ll begin to get a grip on.
What the future holds for me I don’t even know where I am right now.
Yeah, oh yeah, it’s bad.
Yeah, oh yeah, t’s sad.
The shore is far but you are near and should be a good atmosphere.
But life is tough and I am rough and I have made that crystal clear.
The Ferris wheel is goes and goes, somewhat faster around this time of year, and it is hard to comprehend in my cerebral hemisphere.
Yeah, oh yeah, for sure.
Yeah, oh yeah, no one holds the cure.
We have reached the top but in a way I still feel lost.
There is no way I can pay the cost, the cost, the cost, the cost, the cost.
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6. |
Tunnel of Love
03:19
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Spinning round carousels, digging into a new hell where she feels lost at the cost of a constant state of pure exhaust that she had felt in her life. On a wire, a thought implied and a new home, styrofoam that crumbles in a fine-toothed comb.
A shallow lake surrounds their boat, he’s struggling with an anecdote, she hums along in quarter notes. Connotate, but still denote.
Neon lights cross his eyes. Time to sing, fight or flight. Foreign touch feels so sweet, a constant state of pure serene. Tunnel of love gives him hope, don’t want to be another trope sent off in an envelope distrusting of a stethoscope.
Knife held up to a throat, please don’t treat this like a joke.
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7. |
Next Stop Bushwick
04:12
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A neighborhood without a name, it disappeared without a trace. And there’s no need to find it now that I am living out of town. I get on the train and I ask for your name; a prize we can claim; you begin to take aim, and I panic and you smile and I’m manic, takes a while to calm down. You stick around.
The night, it looks so bright and we walk in the light and it’s a quiet night and we both feel alright, and Bushwick is my next stop and I know we just met, but my heart is a firework; a lit cigarette.
You say:
“Are you feeling okay?”
My brain is astray and it makes me feel shame, I tell you all of this and I don’t know why.
And you put your hand on my back and want to cry. I feel connected to you and I don’t think (need), I know why.
The night, it looks so bright and we walk in the light and it’s a quiet night and we both feel alright and you cling on my sleeve. And I don’t know what that means but my face, it turns red
with some existential dread. And I softly touch your hand, and you grip mine with yours, and you smile even more, and I look towards the floor and Bushwick is my next stop and
I know we just met, but my heart is a firework; a lit cigarette.
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8. |
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I was 17 when I knew I wasn’t a boy, revelations that brought me a certain sense of joy. The lower east side lets its attitude be known, a stupid fucking viewpoint that can’t help but be shown.
Gentrification rears it’s ugly head again, and I don’t feel really comfortable being around men. I twist and bend to try and still fit in to archaic views surrounding the concept of sin.
Friends end up surrounding me who respect my identity more than my family ever would or could. Go back to conforming to a gender binary, I really don’t think that I ever could.
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9. |
Sheepshead Bay
03:39
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I will wait for you tonight,
Another night without a fright
I still see you every day
On the dock at Sheepshead Bay
You've been dead for seven months
Water filling up your lungs
And I will wait here for you every day
To return from Sheepshead Bay
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10. |
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11. |
On Kosciuszko Street
03:33
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It rained today, a bored expression on my face.
The midwest drives me insane in it’s well-known claim to fame.
I dream of trains, and graffiti in an alleyway.
This place carries a certain kind of mood that spells out certain doom.
And I can’t wait because it isn’t getting late.
Almost time to crash the gate, though my shoulders break from all the weight.
And all I hope is we can meet on Kosciuszko Street.
Put all our stuff in the backseat in a future I can cheat.
A feeling lays the groundwork for something incredible that we cannot perceive of just yet.
And despite what I say to the contrary, I can’t help but be impatient.
I know we have just two years and it usually helps to quell my fears,
But hesitancy reappears and I can’t help but shed some tears.
You look up at me and tell me that we’ll get there someday and you’ll always be here with me and I break out in a cold sweat because I’ve never had this and I don’t want it to go away and I just want you to know how much I love you and I dream about us on the bench at- ON Kosciuszko Street and it just fills me with a certain warmth and I know that we will make it and it’s worth holding onto because I will be there with you, I will be there with you.
And I can’t wait because it isn’t getting late
Almost time to crash the gate, though my shoulders break from all the weight.
And all I hope is we can meet on Kosciuszko Street.
Put all our stuff in the backseat in a future I can cheat.
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12. |
Meet Me at Prospect Park
05:31
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And far from home, escaping from a place that made me break my bones. A technicolor dreamscape where we’ll raise a home. Cast our sprits out unto the great unknown, not long gone but I still miss you. Passing cars, I’m looking down the sidewalk for a friend, a star, to help me set my life straight. Concept is bizarre, but I still find it valid. Won’t tear me apart as long as you meet me at Prospect Park.
Meet me at Prospect Park. I will hit my mark, I won’t leave you in the dark, just meet me at Prospect Park. I walk to you, look in your eyes, avert my gaze. To my surprise, you touch my hand, kiss me so hard, making it all worth it seeing just how far we’ve come.
Bend and break will forsake, I am awake and caught in a daze. And I still see smoke, I promise this isn’t a joke, I’ve woke, bespoke, remotely here and…
In my dreams you lay there staring at the clock, I can feel a deathly fear of beckoning a shock.
But that won’t be possible without setting off a spark, we can talk about it if you want to come meet me at Prospect Park.
Meet me at Prospect Park. I will hit my mark, I won’t leave you in the dark, just meet me at Prospect Park. So far away, a new embrace. Something to chase, a hope to face. When we were young, it seemed so far. Worrisome in nature, seeing just how far we’ve come.
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Boyfrienders Wyandotte, Michigan
whatever decides to come out of the mind of poppy morawa; live band includes matthew stonebraker, adrian clark, and evan laybourn
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