1. |
Done
02:59
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There's a reason, why the sun won't say goodnight to anyone.
There's a reason, why an echo sings deformed and repeats itself, so sad.
There ain't a day that goes by where theres nobody hurt at all.
There ain't a day that goes by there's nobody glad at all.
There's a treason, to the navy winds of change by Bournemouth
What a feeling, knowing feeling won't be cause, for all my time and all my life.
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2. |
Visiting A Friend
02:31
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Strolling down the corridors of neurons; heavy night. I went back in time and saw you living.
Calories had fuelled this, buzzing at the sight to talk to you again and see you're alright.
But I came to notice of your bloodshot, of your needles. Plans arranged and mind decided: nothing left could make me realise.
For a stretch of minutes, an insight to your plight; you laid out your plans behind my eyelids. Craving explanation, desperate to deride them. Begging you to be better.
I heard chains around him, screaming as I pulled them, but its fate that pulled them, plunged and drowned him, wrapped around a void that stood upright.
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3. |
Stealing Dreams
07:14
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I know that I'm stealing dreams from Fleetwood Mac.
I like the way it sounds, the way it makes me feel to sing that song.
So what you want me to do? Nobody's listening anyway...
Something like the moon is out, the stars are bright, the look thats on my face.
And deep inside, a lie that grounds all other reckoning and strife
to a dream of being renowned and praised.
I know, that I stole the fire from The Doors.
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4. |
It's Hard To Lie Down
06:15
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Summer's bright and swells the night. Oh the plans you have made for my own fate. Baby let me cry...
Cause i'm at a knife; I smile and I loved all the times we had, but this isn't right, it guts me and breaks me to stay anymore. I feel I could be, be back here another day cause I am alive.
But you're pure and hardworking, and you treat me so right. but it feels so damn empty, and I just wanna fly.
Never call me again.
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5. |
Taiya Inlet
02:53
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Taiya Inlet gleamed on the air, through Skagway and into the furs.
Road into dirt, dirt cutting paths. Into trees, into moss, unto faces of rock. On our own.
Near to the top, we settled down, we opened the bags and chugged water down.
And that's when they came - we nearly turned - couldn't face, couldn't cope with the snow and sore. Ex machinas.
Breathing the sweat in our brow and feet. Even the prodigals and we.
Taiya Inlet, by Dyer Road, where walking can swallow you whole.
From A to B, the mountains that smuggle the coast from the lakes and the sea.
Barely a breeze did he seem to breathe, he was the prodigal one surely.
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6. |
Introduction
01:12
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theslowpianos UK
Good soup music
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