1. |
A Grave Without A Body
03:39
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a grave without a body
well they’ve finally torn down
the cornerstone now,
ten years after the last
feedback howl had flared out
and we coiled up our cables
soaked in beer under the eyes
of the manager who wasn’t pleased
with those cymbals on fire.
well that was all right.
that was a good night.
but each time I’d drive by,
felt I’d left something inside,
a safe behind picture frame,
somewhere I’d tucked it away,
and it was gone though it stayed,
a body without a grave.
so there’s an empty lot
down by her parents’ house.
we said we’d never leave,
but we got out.
so I guess now I’m the age
to know people who’ve died,
even if I only hear
six weeks later when you sigh
and say they burned him up entire
before we could arrive.
and you were late to the service
with your shoes untied.
well that was all right.
so was I.
so there’s an empty house
down by my parents’ house.
we said we’d never leave,
but we got out.
and every time I’m back,
I get lost in my own hometown.
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars, synth
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
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2. |
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sunday best, forward address
we bookended
our entrance and exit
with the stereo blasting
the town’s name for emphasis.
the first time, we were eager.
drove down in our sunday best
to sign the lease,
pressed shirt and white dress.
but now we sing along,
that bit about “your old rooftop,”
because now it’s old for us.
and now we’re moving on.
forward address says we’re gone;
deposit’s all used up.
we packed up the boxes,
bed, bicycle, canvas
in a white van and left our
old keys inside the mailbox.
the books felt heavier,
soaked with more completed chapters,
soft light, and echoed laughter.
the court had died
but resurrected soon after.
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
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3. |
The Funeral Ended
03:15
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the funeral ended
the third friend to say
he dreamed I died in a week—
surely that must mean something.
my heretic heart,
these self civil wars…
I carpenter a way to keep it together.
whatever the fraction,
this isn’t a crisis—
to realize you’re dying,
however slowly.
divide how you’d like to,
this isn’t a crisis.
the rest of the time is.
the rest of the time is.
I spent skeptic years
testing the mettle of every truth
like a suspect coin between my broken teeth.
and I make my way
back to new england so rarely
that I sometimes forget that you are gone.
the funeral ended,
stumbled toward my old bedroom,
closed the door and I slept like a teenager.
stayed out all night,
and the clocks all said seventeen.
but now twenty-seven is
breathing down my neck
and by the time that you read this
will already have taken me.
it’s long since now taken me.
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars, piano, synth
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
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4. |
Something I Read
03:36
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something I read
wandering chapel and state street,
laughter or shrieks in the distance.
it’s my first time back since he passed;
it’s the first time it’s more than something I read.
and the fact that the path
that I’m on has an end
had convinced me
that a bookmark would stand.
but life hasn’t stopped
these last three years.
I can count my songs on one hand.
and I no longer know who I am.
my best friends are booked and drunk.
tracking piano at three a.m.—
maybe I was pushing too hard.
then we’d darken the door at the diner,
but the waitresses I knew are gone.
and the fact that the path
that I’m on has an end
had convinced me
that a dog-ear would stand.
but life hasn’t stopped
these last three years.
I can count our calls on one hand.
and I no longer know where I am.
my best friends are books and drinks.
looked up at the sky at east rock,
the pale moon a skull with no bones.
I’m sorry to have been such a stranger.
“I will henceforth be more myself.”
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars, piano, synth, reverse
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
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5. |
A Problem
05:13
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a problem
every once in a while
I get fed up, word-drunk,
and sharp-tongued,
and nothing tastes good.
and you’ll call my bluff;
I’ll storm and sulk on down the block
with my shirt untucked,
back to where I came from.
and I don’t want to be a problem,
but playing house
is as tough as the real thing.
and I don’t want to be a problem,
so I’ll only stay
a couple days that way.
every once in a while
I get stuck, unsure
where I’m going or came from,
or which paragraph’s
meant to say what,
which I’ve written
or yet to write up.
well you gave me a haircut
when I was overgrown.
you helped me keep still
when I was spinning like a globe.
and when I made a mess of everything,
you made me look presentable.
and I don’t want to be a problem.
god knows that you’ve got
too many already.
I don’t want to be a problem.
debating long days at the drugstore
or overnights at the bakery.
and in the savage sunlight,
when trouble is on the rise,
collect your quarters
for my rainy days.
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars, rhodes, synth, hand claps, tambourine, shaker
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
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6. |
Wheat Dreams
03:20
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wheat dreams
the party is over.
and everybody’s gone home.
and now we’re left with
the silence and strangeness
of the kitchen in my parents’ house.
and the jokes seem less funny.
and the drinks were too many.
let the mess wait till morning.
we’ll sleep in my old bedroom;
they call it the guestroom now.
used to stay up all night
throwing stones at your window.
from where I was standing
life looked like it hurt you.
did it hurt you?
I split my old skateboard in two,
hung it up on the wall like a prize kill.
you’re overdue for an art show
and I for a record.
hey, are you asleep?
(the parties, the paintings, the childish things)
these are wheat dreams.
none of us left alive
knows what to do for a living.
there’s blood in the water
and still I say nothing about it.
and these are the things that I think about
before falling asleep.
these are the things that I think:
a pyramid of skulls,
that’s what we call capital.
hey, are you asleep?
(the parties, the paintings, the childish things)
these are wheat dreams.
(the albums, all-nighters, the childish things)
these are wheat dreams.
(are we foolish to think we can harvest these seeds?)
these are wheat dreams.
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars, synth
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
song title inspired by the poetry of michael wolf.
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7. |
Sink the Connecticut
02:22
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sink the connecticut
sometimes I want to sink
deep down into the connecticut,
hold my breath
and let my thoughts wash out,
with my jacket and shoes on,
slow motion in the dark.
but the spell wears off
and then I’m back on the bus to work.
and at its very worst,
the dead mood disappears
within a month or two,
becomes a ringing in your ears.
can you hear it?
sometimes I’ll make a list
of indistinct dissatisfactions
like feeling carsick without movement
and how these rivers all flow southward.
forget the romance of the new year,
fresh starts for starting over.
and if you’re feeling like a coward,
flip the tape on your recorder.
and at its very worst,
the panic vanishes
within a month or two—
a phantom pain you almost miss.
can you feel it?
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars, rhodes, synth, reverse
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
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8. |
The Camera Broke
03:29
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the camera broke
you gave me a camera
for my eighteenth birthday
and a couple of rolls of film.
so I shot our parties and portraits
and shows in the basement—
a closer look at our friends and our selves.
there’s one of you at the stove.
there’s one of me and my bicycle,
making a record, and on tour.
and there’s one from the day we moved away.
and there’s one from a trip back.
it’s got red barns and horses.
and time is always galloping ahead
into the copper light
with tossing mane and rolling eye.
and I have always said
I’ll sleep when I’m dead.
but that’s a lie.
it’s a live man’s bluff;
it’s not enough.
there are shots of my brothers.
mark their heights on a doorframe;
note the flag and the crucifix.
then there are months lacking traces
and the specters of people
I haven’t much kept in touch with.
we moved into our new home,
and like clockwork or some bad joke,
I finished the roll and the camera broke.
so now we are living
in major cities
chasing our twenties down.
but in the beckon of rooftops
I’ll drink the warmth of refraction
and find a new way to document.
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars, synth
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
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9. |
Young Vandals
04:23
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young vandals
we stole a sign
that bore his name.
we laughed all the way home.
we lit a fire
that burned too wild.
we laughed all the way home.
pissing in public,
we broke every window.
cherry bombs in the mailbox,
hop the fence when the cops show.
I burned my hand
on the day that we met,
and I realized I loved her
in the pool with my clothes on.
we might have returned
that sign one night,
but we’ve both moved away
and grown older, if not up.
and we can now see the privilege
to play-act rebellion.
our feet beat a headstart
we’d never have needed.
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars, acoustic, synth, piano, tambourine, noise
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
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10. |
Teenage Forever Bedroom
04:47
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teenage forever bedroom
I wake in a sunlit room.
it’s the first time in years
we’ve fallen asleep
in the dead of the afternoon
and accidentally.
my first sunday off in forever,
I mean really off.
our best clothes spent
in a pile upon the floor,
but we should get up.
we used to have the time
to note that it was passing.
we’re lucky now to measure it in years.
and from the moment I saw you,
I knew that you knew too.
and every day thereafter,
felt the earth was spinning faster.
I remember
you sleeping on my arm,
as we wind through the valley
in your sedan after a show.
tell me about that night.
(choose one in particular.)
what did we eat and wear
and fear and listen to?
I know I ask a lot.
I’m grateful for your answers.
you know my memory’s terrible.
by the time we moved away,
they’d long since closed the cornerstone,
after that one kid was killed.
and from the moment I saw you,
I knew that you knew too.
and every year thereafter,
felt the earth was spinning faster.
sometimes I think that we’ll awake,
breeze in the sheets of my teenage bedroom,
april birdsong in the window,
achilles heel still on the stereo,
and dizzy decades we have seen,
well it will all have been a dream.
and it will all have been a dream.
and it will all have been a dream.
sometimes I think that we’ll awake,
breeze in the sheets of my teenage bedroom,
april birdsong in the window,
clarity still on the stereo
and dizzy decades we have seen,
well it will all have been a dream.
and it will all have been a dream.
and it will all have been a dream.
can you count to ten?
_________________________________________
alex mazzaferro: vocals, guitars, rhodes, radio, reverse
chad jewett: bass
wil mulhern: drums
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Maiden Names
alex, chad, wil. east coast, west coast. members of aeroplane, 1929; perennial; la guillotine. emo revival revival. punk is back (again).
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