1. |
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|
your head is on my shoulders
rough jazz bellows
from the living room
might as well be my live match
marching me
to the depths of its cold and graceful
wrenching tones
well, the coffees boiled over
and the soups gone cold
and the drapes hang down
against the freezing rain, and
sheltering under this quilt
it's the best that it can do
avoiding tonight's thoughts
of tomorrow's responsibilities
and my
hands shrink
maybe from the draft, or maybe
the wish
that my thoughts
would dwindle and remain with my body still
or become
the freezing rain
to shatter and to spill
all its secrets to me
or better yet,
to someone else
whose hands don't shrink
from the smallest things...
... and something will get me upset
and I won't eat right for days
and there's nothing to pass this haze
but to write
my simple words and
strum them with some chords, and hope
all this will pass
before the next disaster hits
and I
hope my hunger
doesn't fade
too soon
but I'm watching
my own desire
drowning in complacency
or maybe
my dreams have changed,
but that could be an excuse
as I watch the ice splinter across
my
windowsill-
do I know what's worth it still?
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2. |
Drivin'
04:20
|
|
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|
when I woke up this morning
I could see the skyline,
when I drove home this morning
I could see the city
shinin'
and I thought-
oh, oh, oh, oh my...
this
can't be right
I couldn't
have
slept
for so long
oh, oh, oh, oh, my, my, my, I
forgot it was here
all of this time, and it's
getting older, this way
of life...
well, I know it's time
and I
keep on getting more
shy
of these
places that I've gone
to before, and-
I say that I'm fine, but I don't
think I will survive this, and I
think it's
getting easier
livin' with all these
problems I don't have to have
I said
my, my, I-
think I'm wasting your
time, I
have no faith in
what I do...
and I
said
my, my, I
have no faith in your time, I
think it's wasted
by what I do
by what I do, oh my.
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3. |
Tired of Screaming
02:03
|
|
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|
all the
songs of my heart
they speak soft and slow, and I
try my best
to ignore them
I've got plenty of time
to refine this voice of mine,
and to
speak soft
and pretty...
but
my voice gets
tired of screaming, and my thoughts
get tired
of jumping
onto trains made of clouds...
I'm not tired
of choosing
the way my life
will go
I think that
I'm using
everyone that I know...
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Mercury Dimes Charlotte, North Carolina
Dynamics and raw-edged honesty.
Punk rock sentiments with hints of indie, punk, and folk from not-quite-
Charlotte, NC.
Get more updates by following us:
www.facebook.com/mercurydimesband
Instagram: @mercurydimes
www.Instagram.com/mercurydimes
Laura Staples on Vocals/Guitar
Wesley Mauldin on Bass
Nathan Curlee on Drums/Percussion
... more
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