1. |
On Tilt
03:18
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Late at night I'm television,
wired for sound and tired and missing
the bands and cathode rays I used to know
where every act was one audition,
and I'm lit up, on tilt, a given,
cruising off to bed in static glow.
You pull me down and it throws me off kilter,
you smoke a cigarette right down to the filter.
Good thing you and I are built to last.
I am not your talk show host,
This is not some golden tone.
This is not a city life,
You are not some microphone.
You pull me down and it throws me off balance,
Beer makes me numb and wine makes you callous.
Good thing you and I are built to last.
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2. |
Prize Racehorse
02:38
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Where do I begin? The young
are never making sense.
They whisper words I've never sung,
negligible nonsense.
Where do we end up, my love?
That isn't what I meant.
I love you like my brother loves
receiving compliments.
And you are my award,
my prize racehorse,
and as you ride, restored,
my sight distorts.
And you're no star of track and field,
you're not a beautiful person,
but you are my award.
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3. |
Carey and Her Idle Songs
02:35
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You were in love for a short time,
with an idle song in the back of your mind.
I scribbled it down using paper and turpentine,
but I always forgot that the first and last rhyme.
Now you don't get excited about anything
and I don't get upset when the phone doesn't ring
as much as it used to.
I was in love for a short time
with an idle song in the back of your throat.
I scribbled it down and you said that you didn't mind,
but when I said them out loud, I started to choke.
Now you don't get excited about anything
and I don't get upset when the phone doesn't ring
quite as much as it used to.
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4. |
Mt. President
05:39
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Carefully I cast my net
into the mud of Mt President.
I am saving every cent
to send you to another town.
That one's outta luck,
that dog's not gonna hunt.
Carefully I cast my net
and save our state.
I will never forget
I asked to wait.
Now I'm only half awake,
lethargy is not a saint.
Carefully I cast my net
into the mud of Mt President.
I am taking any bet
from anybody in the town.
This one's comin' first,
am I just another curse?
Carefully I cast my net
and weigh you down.
You told me that I "had better
stick around."
But I am only half-awake
somewhere in another state.
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Post War Adelaide, Australia
Jingle jangle alternative guitar band. For fans of: Santana riffs in your bedroom, playing videogames, slam jam poetry, Space Jam remixes, other bashful behaviour.
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