1. |
Autocatalysis
01:48
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2. |
Time Machine Dream
04:07
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I went out on a limb, grasping at all the pretty things I've seen in my time machine dream. And I fell asleep naïve, unaware that I might never find my way back to the tree. Here I lay, lost enchanted underneath the canopy of fantasy, and I won't ever come back.
We are threaded through time by people we intuit we could be, mistranslating infinite peace. But when I recognize my higher nature peck the shell, I'll split this cell. I'll change, but stay, and in remaining meditate on gleaming grace that I don't ever come back.
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3. |
Ride It
03:11
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4. |
The Sun Setting
04:20
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The sky was bronze bleeding. We sat waiting to watch the sun setting. But lord, our question's not in the sun. Nor is our answering.
You scream and you shout. You pierce and you pout. You clear and you cloud but still you get yourself into these circumstances that knock you down.
And until goal and ground, that poor ego will not surrender, cannot surrender...
I knew you weren't asleep, just dying to more and more and more. One world at a time, sinking sight through levels of illusion.
You scream and you shout. You flee and you flout. You shrine and you shroud but still you get yourself into these circumstances that knock you down.
And until goal and ground, that poor ego will not surrender, cannot surrender. Even now, you fight it...
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5. |
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6. |
Sweeping The Tide
04:18
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Outside, the moon was a dollar at arm’s length, so bright that while I stood there watching in captured quiet at the railroad crossing, you hid inside, under cover of closed blinds. But under the surface, moonlight spilled in. Like a deep sea fish, your outline filled in glaring up at the distant intrusion, so dark inside, but transparent where light shines.
All you need to do is let it through you. All you need to say’s what you’re compelled to. Healing will come in time. You will put up a fight, but you are sweeping the tide. It’s not easy to win against the moon.
Why hate the love that you’ve refused? Your darling life is not unused to it. But you hide like bugs in the kitchen, so dark inside until I come switching to find you’re locked so tight I cannot see in... So dark inside, I won’t know until you confide.
All you need to do is let it through you. All you need to say’s what you’re compelled to. Healing will come in time. It will all soon be fine. Lord knows you think you're right, but you are losing your life. You are sweeping the tide, and it's not easy to win against the moon.
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7. |
Lady Of The Lake
03:00
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8. |
The Cartographers
04:54
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We ply in maps. We are certain that the world fits on a page, in a poem, and believe that what we see doesn’t slip into the discontinuities we use to lead our children through this quaint diorama.
We are real people living in our imagination at simile speed, failing to keep up with a life led beyond a metaphor’s needs that sheds and reissues all that continues without seams. The dispersal of seeds.
We are all sages and saints waiting to happen.
We are real people living in our imagination.
And it is more beautiful than can be expected. But we scratch and sniff at our books in attempts for the actual scent. Lord, we try to fade into the sky. But we come home alone. We come home small. Cuz no belief has any meat at all.
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9. |
Bête Moiré
02:19
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10. |
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When love's first blush is gone, the fruit has fallen off, and we're left scratching heads – it hurts so we're not dead.
When weariness sets in, and fame is wearing thin, so soon do we forget: it hurts so we're not dead.
When we are disconnect; we don't feel, just expect; and we're not full, just fed...it hurts so. It hurts so.
It hurts so we're not dead.
When even pain is old and doesn't hurt as should, we're desperate to be bled. It hurts so we're not dead.
We're not dead.
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Michael Garfield Santa Fe, New Mexico
Singer-songwriter, avant-guitarist, and live electronic producer all at once, Michael's dynamic live shows and intricate albums takes listeners on emotional trips spanning folk tradition and the avant-garde.
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