1. |
Spokes
02:50
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2. |
Let It All Get Out
03:34
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Let it all get out. Set it all splayed there on the table. If we're to make this work, none of our horses can stay in the stable. Chomping at the bit. Churning up dust with restless hooves. Empty your pockets and unpack the boxes you've kept underfoot.
And let it all get out. Open up your heart and throat and sacrum. If we're to see this through, we must see through our explanations. Squeezing till it hurts. Squandering our limited resources. And praying for the worst to justify our wasted sacred forces.
It's time for full disclosure. Time this cold war's over. Time to own our demons. Time to meet our reasons. Time to bare our teeth and let the plovers clean them.
And let it all get out. Stand up and uncap that volcano. If we're to live at all, we must acknolwedge the buried anger. Pushing at our doors. A still unexploited energy source. So dig to the core. And do not be afraid of who you are anymore.
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3. |
Offering Hands
03:58
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Your pain - it is my pain. Your joy - it is my joy. Are we not tethered deeper than we claim? Are we not I before the name?
Your fear - it is my fear. Your loss - it is my loss. Is not this loneliness a bridge across? Are we not I, not I, not I, not I...?
Bathe with me beneath the vale of tears. And pray to He who still and silent hears. And weeps that we may bathe in peace.
The floodgates are open. The levee has broken to spill on the choking sands. Unfolding like offering hands. Love's light is roaring. A violent morning explodes over dormant land. Unfolding like offering hands.
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4. |
Sonnet A
02:50
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5. |
Underground River
01:52
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You simmering heat. You morning dew. I have to quiet so far down to hear you.
Your yearning voice. Your whispering carries away the louder sounds I'm used to.
I'm a rounded stone in a trickling stream. A glowing coal enwombed in ashy bedding.
Erode away my name and face, my time and space to deeper places than I've given you.
Relax the gates. My love awaits to fold into your quiet depths and patient truths. To couple with the subtle grace that lives through you.
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6. |
Tin Heart
04:37
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Form is the first division, the morning after's news. God gave light, and then the darkness came in crashing too. The reason being: we chose this blood and juice cuz it's no fun to dine alone (and dine on what, and what's the use?).
We know no better. We tie on our blinds and fetters and curse the weather. We are lost in pursuit.
Form is a form of cutting. God gets off on self-abuse. And every broken-hearted love song is a bomb at the end of an automatic fuse. An empty tracing of a bruise.
But we know no better. We tie on our blinds and fetters and curse the weather. We are lost in pursuit.
Dreamers, the dream is valid.
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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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