1. |
Like The Moon
03:13
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I can't change the way I live
Things don't stay with me for long
I go back to my old ways
I can't feign a change of heart
When I long to feel the dark
Wrap around my hungry skin
And though I know, it's not to say
That I can't grow, but I'll still pay
To travel deep into the night
And watch my eyes, the stars combine
We can't revive the wings we've broken
But we can mend what the morning lends
But we don't change, we're all we see
We traipse around this misery
And peer into cementing eyes
And watch the blood begin to dry
And though I smile all the time
It's 'cause I'm there so many nights
Laughing with the strangest men
And pushing hard against the brim
I've slept for days, I've swam away
To clear these lungs and fix this mind
On better things, but I am wild
You can't suppress the one inside
So I drink up, light one for me
And we can dance together free
Just like the moon inside a song
We're beautiful but so alone
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2. |
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Don't you worry about a thing
There's love in almost everything
Don't be afraid to love what's near
Even though what's in your heart's unclear
Don't you worry about a thing
There's love in almost everything
If I had one thing to tell you, my dear
It's keep me close when you are here
Don't you worry about a thing
There's love in almost everything
If you don't talk to me again
That's okay, I just hope that you'll be a friend someday
But if not, well it ain't up to me
Well it ain't up to me
Don't you worry about a thing
There's love in almost everything
Don't you worry about a thing
There's love in almost everything
Don't you worry about a thing
There's love in almost everything
Don't you worry about a thing
There's love in almost everything
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3. |
Love On This Plane
05:31
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Love on this plane
Is a wild sacred thing
And the world down below
Like a long night unfolds
Is waiting for me
So I can't feel free
But Vallie looks pretty
In the back of my mind
And the window looks bad
Against the big gloomy sky
I hear people inside
But the words lose their size
As the quiet sets in
And sleep starts to swim
Well, sometimes I fear
I got demons left here
Though they're swallowed in time
Still the voice speaks in rhymes
All the time
I followed you here
And you weren't that clear
But I made it a choice
To follow you here
But love on this plane
Is a wild sacred thing
But the world it looks cold
As I gaze down below
Yes, the world it is cold
As I'm stuck down below
Love on this plane
Is a wild sacred thing
Feels thick in my side
Shoots miles from my eyes
Love on this plane
Such a strong aching thing
And the world down below
As I'm stuck down below
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4. |
Some New Life We'll Grow
04:49
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I died in LA
Woke up on the road
It was chilly in Flagstaff and the coffee was bad
I fell in love with Asheville
Died twice in Atlanta
Was numb and for longing some choices I made
Now my chin's up up north
And my best friend here
Has a two-year-old kid and her husband's so nice
Oh, the freedom I've give
For the capacity to love
Like a bird on a wire could be so much higher
I played out the sequence and read from the script
But the clouds hung real heavy on this mountainous trip
I thought of old Sam as he smiled from the sky
It's the daylight that churns me, it needles my life
But I'm up now in Portland
And the painter I've met
Inspires my living and makes me forget
She shows these colors I've known twice before
And feelings I've left some two lives ago
Yea, I'm up now in Portland
And Vallie knows me
She colors and shows me
She lovers and holds me
She fells me, she paints me
She tells me she'll take me as I am
As I am
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
Some new life we'll grow
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Paul Bergmann New Haven, Connecticut
In his relentless oeuvre-building, Paul has amassed an especially articulate kind of existentialism: what it means to persist, and to create, in a world which dies in the near distance. In No Masters in Paradise, the form of the songwriter’s ballad, in the hands of an expert, is turned inward for comfort, resisting the base lure of worldly approval. ... more
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