1. |
Davisville
02:59
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Uninspiring, uninspired.
Walk along the Beltline, get tired.
Nothing is moving at all.
It's already fall.
Apple, plum, pear or peach?
I just want one bite of each.
Please, no strings,
no complicated things,
no anchors in the bay.
I sink if I can't stray.
I'm seeing someone again,
but I'm not feeling them.
I am who I am.
Worn out welcomes, worn out shoes.
I've memorized my exit cues.
Lack of strength or strength of will,
I get on the train and I get off at Davisville.
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2. |
Promised Land
03:11
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Selo, selo moje okićeno gorom.
Vitom, vitom jelom i zelenim borom.
Sadi, sadi mala borove i jele.
Ja ću, ja ću ruže rumene i bjele.
Cradled by the mountains of blood-red stone.
Pines stretch their branches over buried bones.
You're only there to visit, but the welcome is warm,
and a party breaks out like the day you were born.
Faces shine brightly, lit by burning oak.
This is the promised land, can you see it through the smoke?
Give away the songs you've been clutching in your hand:
they're the waning roses of the promised land.
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3. |
Green
03:35
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Black thumbs, blue hands,
stuck in a city you can't stand.
Strangers staring in the streets.
You rent a room, the drawers are bare.
You're only ever there
to hide your secrets in the sheets.
And in the darkness they can't see you're green.
You sit on barstools spinning tales,
dirt under your fingernails.
You drink and smoke and swear.
You go where you are led,
empty heart or empty bed,
wearing that sweet smile that you wear.
And in the darkness they can't see you're green.
There's time to dig and time to sow,
time to ripen nice and slow,
time to spoil away your prime,
time and time and time.
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4. |
Carried
03:14
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The first light of the morning,
the last star to appear,
the smile that made your smile come out and show,
the bags you packed so heavy,
the worries on your shoulder,
the hand that led you where you had to go,
will be carried away by the river.
The first song that we sang,
the last dance that we danced,
the flowers that I laid upon your stone,
the coldest of the mountains,
the darkest of the valleys,
the bridges we can only cross alone,
will be carried away by the river.
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Jelena Ciric Reykjavík, Iceland
The long-lost love child of Regina Spektor and Joni Mitchell.
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