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2. |
Undoings
01:16
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I don’t really like that you cannot feel this
There are gin and spiders crawling inside us
There are experts in textbooks who’d say you do this on purpose
And the frowns that surround you threaten to drown us
It doesn’t seem real how this slipped through my fingers
Disposing of bodies I hope my fingerprint lingers
Much longer than your trust our tryst seems a mystery
You are crying in toilets as I wish you’ll forgive me
I’m wondering always just what was real
I’ve been collecting evidence asleep at the wheel
I am useless and selfish and unsure what to do
When I look into your eyes you are solemn and through
And I miss you come back to me
This is my undoing
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3. |
Just You And I
03:33
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4. |
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The bedding was full of tricks.
I am last night’s wine’s pale ghost.
I found your diary in a bathroom.
I’m growing orchids in your memory.
(Come back to me,
Come back)
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5. |
Trio
03:59
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She moves her hand towards to dashboard
I see you notice her near
Come back to me from outer space
I’m trapped here unsure
Oh my love
I dry my eyes, as she’s laughing
Weeping on the backseat
Your face smiles inside my eyelids
But when they’re open you’re gone
And it cost you my love
And it lost you my love
Oh my love
I see you notice her near
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6. |
Camilla
03:03
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I feel I’m getting nearer
But my head’s inside itself
You are growing ever stranger
I don’t know how you really felt
Betty
Diane
As bitter as I began
Oh, if only I was dearer
When isn’t love betrayed?
Bouquets bloom in your bedroom
Now I will never see your face
Betty
Diane
As bitter as I began
Could you be
My Camilla?
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7. |
Red Wine Lips
03:43
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I’ve got
Red wine lips and no courage
I’ve got nighttime confessions
Drunkenly hurried
I’ve got a sense
Of creeping disasters
I’ll have worry in my stomach
Forever after
But if I could do
Then I’d tell you just how much you’ve been on my mind
But instead
I’m left with stale red wine
Memories fade
But not my red wine lips
They’ll remind me of how we’ll never kiss
But if I could do
Then I’d tell you just how much you’ve been on my mind
But instead
I’m left with red wine lips
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8. |
How
01:10
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9. |
Mysteries
02:32
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Crumpled papers rolled into balls
A stained phone no one calls
There’s a tray of meat on the side
And a car waiting in the drive
Three coats with no pockets in a line
Next to a clock stuck at one time
A pool of beer stains the floor
Beside shoes that point to the door
There is dust freckling the air
And the sink is blocked with strands of hair
A photo no one recognizes on display
An outdated menu from a sad café
Cracked cups half-filled
One on its side from where the beer spilled
Sheets pulled back from the bed
A table marked with ash and pencil lead
The meat is hard and curled at the edge
A group of ants collect on a window ledge
Drawers hastily pulled shut
A small speck of blood from a paper cut
And I don’t know
Whether to leave or arrive
(The mysteries that keep us up at night)
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10. |
I Wish I Knew
03:36
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I can’t stop seeing ghosts and visions all around me
Haunted by the past I know it makes you angry
Seeing signs and clues hidden in every movement
Too obsessed to bother about self-improvement
These thoughts are crawling in my ears and in my eyelids
Spilling from my mouth before I’ve chance to hide this
I’m getting lost in every social interaction
Constantly paranoid I can’t shift this distraction
I wish I knew how to go back
All my plans have left me staring at the ceiling
I have to understand every hidden meaning
Spending hours trying to see into the future
And if I did I know I’d never be your suitor
Locked inside my head with things that make me nervous
I don’t know why you’d think I’m doing this on purpose
I’m getting lost in every social interaction
Constantly paranoid I can’t shift this distraction
I wish I knew how to go back
Seeing signs and clues hidden in every movement
Getting tongue-tied up in words I never meant
Puzzles are like leaving chocolate in the kitchen
I’ll keep looking but there’s always a piece missing
The end approaches I can taste its bitter shadow
You’re in darkness all I see now is your sorrow
I’m getting lost inside these thoughts that make me nervous
Constantly paranoid I’m doing this on purpose
Constantly paranoid I’m doing this on purpose
Constantly paranoid I’m doing this on purpose
I wish I knew how to go back
All my plans have left me staring at the ceiling
I have to understand every hidden meaning
Spending hours trying to see into the future
And if I did I know I’d never be your suitor
Locked inside my head with things that make me nervous
I don’t know why you’d think I’m doing this on purpose
I wish I knew how to relax
I wish I knew how to go back
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11. |
Mirror, Father, Mirror
03:37
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I’ve been searching all my lifequest for a chance to save my father
Found eggshells full of ashes with a phoenix fuelled on laughter
Blackly lodged inside my mind the demons hide behind the curtain
Drowning in the wetness of my murdering immersion
Masticating over murder that may just be an illusion
I’m on the cusp of coming early to the correct conclusion
Watching out for crimes committed creeping closer to the truth
I’ve fingered father’s killer but frittata! I’ve no proof!
Watching out for crimes committed creeping closer to the truth
I’ve fingered father’s killer but frittata! I’ve no proof!
Detecting all my days when freelancing round the globe
I can be your spirit guardian if you harden under my robe
I’ve examined up your skirt to source your hidden power
I’ve been collecting all the clues you lose whilst washing in the shower
Guiding all the world’s conundrums into my helping hand
Sliding softly up inside them to arouse a kinder gland
Watching out for crimes committed creeping closer to the truth
I’ve fingered father’s killer but frittata! I’ve no proof!
Watching out for crimes committed creeping closer to the truth
I’ve fingered father’s killer but frittata! I’ve no proof!
This serpent’s shedding shadows on my mother’s whereabouts
The apple of her loins is forbidding fruit from taking sprout
Searching my abandoned homestead for relics of the past
My genesis suppressed I need to find my family fast
Pulling out of mother’s grindhouse where I used to live
The signs are pointing pertly but I’m lacking a motive
Watching out for crimes committed creeping closer to the truth
I’ve fingered father’s killer but frittata! I’ve no proof!
Watching out for crimes committed creeping closer to the truth
I’ve fingered father’s killer but frittata! I’ve no proof!
Surveying my suspicions sweetly sucking on my mind
Suddenly they alter me I’m erotically lobotomized
Aligning the truth before my eyes most terrifyingly
In a vision prison of my hallucinogens my father comes to me
And at last the cover is pulled back I see the gruesome whole
I’m sucked off screaming by the vengeful reflection of my father’s soul
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12. |
Cluedo?
03:04
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It was Colonel Mustard in the ballgown
The wicked Vicar was observing from afar
The Professor, perverse as ever
Was sure he saw Miss Scarlet remove her bra
Your phone call was confusing and upsetting
I’m very much afraid
There’ll be another murder in this town
I haven’t got a clue who, though
No I haven’t got a clue
I haven’t got a clue who, though
I haven’t got a clue-do
I haven’t got a clue-do
I haven’t got a clue
Mrs White was crashing in the kitchen
She had sharpened all the knives when the lights went off
And, oh look! Now the doctor’s blacking out
In the darkness did he hear Mrs Peacock cough?
Your phone call was confusing and upsetting
I’m very much afraid
There’ll be another murder in this town
I haven’t got a clue who, though
No I haven’t got a clue
I haven’t got a clue who, though
I haven’t got a clue-do
I haven’t got a clue-do
I haven’t got a clue
Was She was getting cozy in the conservatory?
Who discovered the Doctor’s mangled body?
The Professor splutters and stutters
He left his balls in the billiard room
Colonel Mustard appeared flustered
The Reverend Green had made obscene remarks
Peacock smirks from the corner
From a library paper cut she had worked it out
Your phone call was confusing and upsetting
I’m very much afraid
There’ll be another murder in this town
I haven’t got a clue who, though
No I haven’t got a clue
I haven’t got a clue who, though
I haven’t got a clue-do
I haven’t got a clue-do
I haven’t got a clue
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13. |
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I wait, anxious, outside the Museum of Bad Breakfast
The sky is earl gray I am nervier than I expect
A note prompted me to be here punctually
She had danger in her eyes that I never would suspect
My coffee’s growing cold
Scribbled notes on napkin folds
What’s worse than bad breakfast?
I lounge lugubriously in the lobby
But fail to notice the sleeping pills in my omelet
For foreboding’s sake I’ll forgo from foreseeing
How I’ll wake up starving as I break into a sweat
My coffee’s growing cold
These suspicions have taken hold
I feel worse than bad breakfast
I can’t wait to live somewhere with carpet
These splinters in my shoes are ripping skin
She smiles at me as I wish I could protect them
I close my eyes to prevent her points from poking in
My coffee’s growing cold
And I can’t do as I’m told
She’s worse than bad breakfast
I skim the skin off my coffee as I’m waiting
A perfect stranger drops a parcel while passing by
The contents are curious I grab my notebook
The ink is inching slowly towards the corner of my eye
My coffee’s growing cold
I write my secrets down in bold
This job is worse than bad breakfast
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