1. |
Intro
00:52
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2. |
I Always Let You In
03:45
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Pull me into your body any way that you can.
We are oil and water -- we don't mix, but we dance.
How we fill our container up and over the brim.
Teach me nothing can stay here,
but I always let you in.
Sleeping in to the lightning. Washing dishes to rain.
Father's over for dinner, how he loves to complain.
He will call you his daughter -- feel the blush on your skin.
Just a joke among family.
But I always let you in.
You're in deafening colour. I'm in denim and black.
We arrive at the party, I slip out through the back.
Move in opposite circles. Polarize as we spin.
Reconvene for the drive home. I don't want to,
but I always let you in.
Completely undefended. So fragile, paper thin.
It's not what I intended this time,
but I always let you in.
A second story hallway. A light left on, now dim.
You know the ending: I'll leave the door unlocked.
I always let you in.
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3. |
A Tiny Shift
03:10
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It feels like every single time I tell you that I'm fine, there's a twinkle in your eye like you know different.
How's it feel to be so brave? To mean everything you say? How's it feel to be someone somebody's missing?
I'm saving toonies in a jar for a tattoo on my arm -- something stupid from a movie we were raised on.
Home Alone, or Men In Black, the aliens from Mars Attacks!, that ugly hat and quote "I love the smell of napalm..."
Would you be there to hold my hand?
I know things changed, but I'm still your man, just in different ways.
A tiny shift. Some time away.
But if I'm the rocks, honey you're the waves.
And when I'm out with someone kind, I see Christina in their eyes and I feel settled.
And I can't wait to feel at home again, a garden of my own, and then I realize I'm stepping on the petals.
But if you could be so bold to find yourself out on the road, then I can pick myself back up and be alone.
A couple friends, a couple pets, a cup of coffee, taking bets on who can waste away more hours on the phone.
Would you be there to hold my hand?
I know things changed, but I'm still your man, just in different ways.
A tiny shift. Some time away.
But if I'm the rocks, honey you're the waves.
That's the way it's gonna stay.
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4. |
Sometimes
04:08
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So this is depression -- my best friend's collection of old traumas and modern scars.
So this is self-isolation -- another night of Playstation, shooting guns and stealing cars,
when I should be out, right? Having the time of my mid-life, looking back on seventeen.
But I'm here acting like I'm seventeen.
(It's been so long since I felt anything.)
What if I don't wanna grow old?
What if I'm scared to be alone,
with all of my friends moving east,
or getting sick,
or finding peace in other lives?
Another night that's gonna go wrong before it's right.
But that's life. That's life. That's life. That's life sometimes.
So this is how it starts -- we bloom together, and grow apart,
and reconnect to save face for New Years and birthdays.
So this is the life I wanted -- stability, gin and tonic, to wash down the taste of giving up.
'Cause I should be out, right? Peddling my songs to the late night, or anyone who'd put up with me.
But lately I just sleep -- so much for the dream.
What if I don't wanna grow old?
What if I'm scared to be alone,
with all of my friends moving east,
or getting sick,
or finding peace in other lives?
Another night that's gonna go wrong before it's right.
But that's life. That's life. That's life. That's life sometimes.
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5. |
Playing Patient
04:18
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Could we just sit, talk shit, get over it?
Once in a while it'd be nice to see you in a smile.
Could we stay in for one night? Have it out, fuck and fight, whatever helps.
Whatever cuts this tension like a knife.
Could we just chill, be still, break the pattern we've been living inside?
Is that alright?
'Cause I've been making plans to just be honest with myself.
Buckled knees and shaking hands aren't doing anything to help.
I'm afraid this might all come back someday.
Oh, I feel it now. Driving with the windows down, taking back-roads to your house, when it all comes pouring out.
Oh, I feel it now. Everything I never felt playing patient on the couch.
Oh I feel it -- everything, all at once, suddenly.
Come a little bit closer, see how I messed up the place.
I still pick at my face, see the scars on my cheeks?
Put your hands on my waist. Spin in circles with me,
and we'll move at a pace that seems right, and stop fighting for once.
It'd be easier for both of us to breathe.
(Happy anniversary.)
I'm afraid this could all turn black someday.
Oh, I feel it now. Driving with the windows down, taking back-roads to your house, when it all comes pouring out.
Oh, I feel it now. Everything I never felt playing patient on the couch.
Oh I feel it -- everything, all at once, suddenly.
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6. |
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I'm amazed by the way you can ruin things.
In the name of modernity, start to erase
every trace of a history you'll never miss.
Every memory covered in layers of paint.
Like a hospital, sterile and white-washed.
Ghosts and echoes of family kiboshed.
Plastered over by what's "inoffensive" to you.
That's one way to quiet a room.
Sage and mahogany, warped wooden floors,
heights of two children we scribbled on doors,
shelves full of Counting Crows records we turned off too soon.
That's one way to quiet a room.
Every inch painted over with grey
and hospital white, what a sad sight to see.
All the blood that we shed on the floor's been removed.
That's one way to quiet a room.
You're cutting limbs off the family maple,
where a tire swing started to rot in the rain.
And the hockey sticks stuffed in a barrel,
replaced them with shovels.
Whatever, we used 'em the same.
Gone's the workshop where we cut our teeth,
where I beat the shit out of drums to keep up with my feet.
Are those dissonant cymbals still ringing for you? No?
That's one way to quiet a room.
Sage and mahogany, warped wooden floors,
heights of two children we scribbled on doors,
shelves full of Great Big Sea records we turned off too soon.
That's one way to quiet a room.
Every inch painted over with grey
and hospital white, what a sad sight to see.
All the blood that we shed on the floor's been removed.
That's one way to quiet a room.
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7. |
P.S. (Hunter IV)
03:44
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One more thing I've always wondered. One more summer back on Hunter, when we sat and watched your mother threaten him with kitchen scissors. You, your dad, and older sister made a pact in solemn whispers.
Does that night stick in your mind? Cause it's permanent in mine. Do you call from time to time to make sure she's good to drive?
A fist-shaped hole in half-inch sheet rock. Closed the doors whenever we'd talk. Your sister's boyfriend swung his arm, and I bled out in Churchill Park. You felt stupid, all alone -- "can I crash? I can't go home."
Prescriptions and white wine made a mess of your home life. I don't blame you for being unkind. There are faults in your blood line.
I was always bad at being good.
(Didn't I end up like you always thought I'd be?)
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8. |
The Parking Lot
02:57
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I've been feeling like a waste of space.
Spinning tires in a gravel driveway,
in the house I lived in on the east side of London.
Now I'm back in that place, empty stomach and a pale white face.
Sleeping in the hallway and thinking of you always.
I've been here before, and I don't like the way it sounds
when it's just me and empty walls, like half the mountain's coming down on my head.
When it's so easy just to crawl in my bed
and watch the same three films to try to sleep.
Like anything could cure the overwhelming dread
like watching Land Before Time on repeat.
(Hey!)
I've been feeling a little bit shot. A dead engine in the parking lot.
While the weight of it all comes down made of water, and I hope I drown.
Or find another way through. Barely conscious with the thought of you.
And there's nothing I've found makes me feel safe this time around.
Here we are, and I don't like the way it sounds
when it's just me and empty walls, like half the mountain's coming down on my head.
When it's so easy just to crawl in my bed
and watch the same three films to try to sleep.
Like anything could cure the overwhelming dread
like watching Texas Chainsaw on repeat.
I've been feeling like a waste of space.
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9. |
Call the Boys
02:59
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Calm down.
You'll be alright.
Call the boys.
Tell 'em to meet you outside.
You've got letters to burn,
and keepsakes that you'd like to hide.
Calm down.
Tell 'em it feels like the bomb fell.
Tell 'em you're less of a boat in a storm,
more a leaf in a hurricane.
It'll be okay, bud.
That's what they all say but
everyone lies once in a while.
It'll be okay, bud.
That's what they all say but
everyone lies.
Calm down.
Don't let your voice pick up too loud.
Don't upset anyone more than you have to.
There's plenty of hurt to go around.
Call now.
Tell 'em you're sad.
Tell 'em you've had it,
and it's really that bad.
It'll be okay, bud.
That's what they all say but
everyone lies once in a while.
It'll be okay, bud.
That's what they all say but
everyone lies.
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10. |
By and By
04:05
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Didn't I get by just fine without you?
Didn't I turn out just like I was meant to?
Where am I? Shotgun, right side, or rear view?
Whatever makes it go down smooth.
By and by,
I'll meet you in time
in somebody's basement,
out of my mind.
By and by,
I will be faceless,
but honey you'll shine.
Combing my mind trying to find what I'm missing.
The distance is staggering, almost feels criminal.
You're writing manifestos so they'll listen.
Let it sink in, till one day it's subliminal.
But what am I? Headline, foot note, or struck through?
Whatever makes it go down smooth.
By and by,
I'll meet you in time
in somebody's basement,
out of my mind.
By and by,
I will be faceless,
but honey you'll shine.
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11. |
Arizona (Lemonade)
04:23
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Steps from where we started, picking dandelion greens.
Filling mason jars with coffee. Washing peaches in the sink.
You and I in technicolor, like it always used to be.
That's the way you live inside my memory.
Stepping over floorboards where the sun has bleached the stain.
I'm neurotic, superstitious about getting in the way
of Mother Nature's best attempts at taking back what we have made.
A foundation set to crumble in the rain.
Some things never change.
Some things never change, like the price of Arizona or the way you call my name.
Some things never change. The world is spinning different, but the taste remains the same -- chamomile and lemonade.
St John's and Green's Harbour, then a thousand miles west to see your brother in St. Anthony ("for the last time," was your guess).
Then another fifteen hours back, just open sky and sea. That's the way you live inside my memory.
Out with Edna on the water, how she always loved to tease.
"You will never see the harbour after this, the way you eat!"
When it took you, we felt everything -- the anger and relief.
Now you sit on my piano, evergreen.
Some things never change, like the price of Arizona or the way you call my name.
Some things never change. The world is spinning different, but the taste remains the same -- chamomile and lemonade.
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12. |
Let it Out, Repeat.
03:27
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I'm no good at parties.
I prefer to break away.
I'm no good at saying sorry,
but I'm sorry every day
for the pain I cause my family
when I make idiot mistakes.
Would you sit and cry here with me
before I ruin my birthday?
(Another bumpy ride around the sun. I made the worst of this one.)
Remembering I spent the whole night
pushing through the crowd to get outside
and breathe in, breathe deep, let it out, repeat.
A charismatic introvert,
you can find me in the back for what it's worth.
Breathe in, breathe deep, let it out, repeat.
I fucking hate the smell
but I tried to make you proud.
Held it deep in my lungs,
tried to keep my composure for once.
Another night face-down.
Deadly panic in a friendly crowd.
I'll never get high again.
I'm not mad, I'm just sick of the bends.
(I threw up on the ride around the sun. I'll sleep till the end of the next one. If I can make it through somehow, meet me here on the way down.)
Remembering I spent the whole night
pushing through the crowd to get outside
and breathe in, breathe deep, let it out, repeat.
A charismatic introvert,
you can find me in the back for what it's worth.
Breathe in, breathe deep, let it out, repeat.
I spent the whole night (NHL 2008 crowd noise)
pushing through the crowd to get outside
and breathe in, breathe deep, let it out, repeat.
A charismatic introvert,
you can find me in the back for what it's worth.
Breathe in, breathe deep, let it out, repeat.
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13. |
Suddenly
04:48
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Can i be honest for once? I can't settle down.
I've been having these dreams where I've been driving around
I keep finding my way back to the wrong side of town.
I'm asleep at the wheel and I wake to a terrible sound.
Well it's thunder, or it's lightning, or it's metal in my mouth.
I am violently shaken. I'm alone on the couch.
Can I be honest for once? This is all a little strange.
Friends say I should be mourning. I'm just spending my days
growing closer to nature. Growing lines on my face.
Spending delicate hours in a post-familial space.
I've abandoned any sense of being settled at the roots.
It's a dizzying forward motion I am settled into.
I am anxious and I'm sick. I am in love with the view.
I am very much on fire. There is something left to do.
Suddenly everything's clear.
Suddenly I am not alone.
As suddenly as everything changed,
suddenly I am home.
Suddenly this is normal,
just normal with a different tone.
Suddenly I have everything I need in what I own.
Can I be honest for once?
I'm a mess now. Though I am everything I thought I would be when i was small
I'm surrounded by musicians. I am nearly six feet tall.
I was not much of a dreamer. I believe that might be all.
I am kind to the right kind of people. I don't expect much in return.
I do not yet believe that we are inherently good, but I sure am willing to learn.
Can I be honest for once?
I do not quite feel myself.
I am still inside that dream, I think, or at least I'm somewhere else.
I am lost without my people. It's an isolated Hell.
For a well-adjusted man, I'm not adjusting very well.
but what do I have to complain for? I'm a child throwing fits.
I have everything I need. I'm a picky piece of shit.
Box my ears until I'm gentle. Show no mercy. Do not quit.
Break me down. Make me see. This is goodness. This is it.
Suddenly everyone's here.
Suddenly I am not alone.
Suddenly good friends I thought were lost to me are calling on the phone.
Suddenly this is heaven, or as close as I've ever known.
Suddenly I am here, and I am home.
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14. |
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Everyone I've loved and I have lost,
I cherish every memory, however steep the cost. Leave your name and number when you go, and I will try to find the strength it takes to use my phone and tell you I am sorry for the way that these things go. Maybe I won't spend thirty alone.
Love,
Wade
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Math Club Hamilton, Ontario
Math Club is the musical project of Hamilton, Ontario songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Wade Morrison and all of his closest friends.
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