1. |
B2POI
02:07
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Somewhere in the twisted recesses
Where substance is a different consistency
There is an indescribable state of being
Down inside our own wells of potential
There exist caverns we seldom discover
Our inner eye unlike any other
Between two planes of infinity
Physically distant, mentally bottomless
Subject of our own metathesis
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2. |
Bottom
03:31
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It takes no time
No time at all
It takes no time
To fall
From grace
In the last earthly place
You called home before that feeling left the building
At the bottom
Of a hill
Way down at the bottom
Settling still
Into place
Not so fast, it could take
No time at all for that feeling
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3. |
Doomed Inspiration
02:55
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What inspiration is this?
Something specific?
In all this ambiguousness
Something specific?
Please
Take a moment to witness
Its influence as it diminishes
Bent in delicate dimensions
Definition
Lost to apprehension
Fading from this existence
Such inspiration is this
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4. |
Gimme
02:08
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Is the present tense?
‘Cause I haven’t noticed yet
Scraps from your table kept me fed
Suppose I should be content
Oh, I know what you own
A piece of this and all that
So just gimme what I need
Was the past forced?
Our history hasn’t started yet
Go ‘round turning points up ahead
As long as in the end I’ll be content
Oh, I know what you own
A piece of this and all that
So just gimme what I need
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5. |
Haystacks
03:12
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Lost in the haystack
Desperate to be found
There's a scratching sound
From the house cat out back
Grasping at straws
To pull the longest one
The farmer gets his gun
To resist the natural law
Breaking the hard earth
In the early morning fog
The field stretches long
And the shovel shows our worth
Dirt on our hands
Each and all just for one
Has no appreciation
For the rising or the setting of the sun
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6. |
Loose Interpretation
03:03
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The hard words prove useful
Capable of harm
Like fire or sword
Imperfect source
Imperfect wisdom
Longing to be well adjusted
Not to be misconstrued
The truth
Our existence
Carved out
Long ago
In archaic tongue
Dreams of the future
Sleepless nights of the past
Construction of situation
The possibilities vast
Inimitable
An original
Eloquently assembled
Intimately resembles
A long forgotten vessel
Preeminent and peaceful
The art of life
Individual fibers
Sweeping brush strokes
Vague summation
Loose interpretation
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7. |
Mot Juste
02:21
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We are all works in progress
Seeking elegance throughout senescence
Sons and daughters of the universe
Amidst endless iterations of suns and moons
Is it hard to be
What only ever dies?
Born only to expire
To believe in higher minds
Only the right words
Only the right words
Only just right
Is it wrong to be?
A never ending cycle
Destined to repeat
To fight onward without defeat
Only the right words
Only the right words
Only just right
Like a poem that never ends
And doesn’t always rhyme
But you remember every line
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8. |
Old Scroll
02:36
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The moment you open your eyes
In this place we colonize
You are subject to inherent precondition
Whether you’re built or you’re born
If you forfeited your form
In exchange for misguided ambitions
In your hand you hold a talisman
Of everything you’ve ever been
And anything you'll ever be again
It is hard to get on with something?
Sure it is
Perspective is the key
It unlocks almost anything
Understanding the prize it kept hidden
Its in our nature to believe in the things we perceive
Even a dream is already partially achieved
And if you’re stuck in a disguise
Know its constructed from the lies
You only told yourself to get by
Is it wrong to become a song?
Only recalled on an old scroll
Yeah
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9. |
Sapien's Lament
03:01
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It pushes air through instrument lungs
It transforms matter over taste-bud tongues
It purses harmonica lips and hums
While thrashing the planet to bits for fun
Its nothing different than anything else
It trembles in fear of the gods above
In retribution yet unsung
It buries its dead in a wooden bed
And keeps their memories in its head
Out there in homage to the green goddess
For a while we were seeing clearly and then they got us
To all make digital copies of ourselves
And tend the fields of social capital it yields
Every handle fastened to our backs
Drives us toward a place, we don’t know where its at
And though we do not choose them for ourselves
Our names are most fundamental to us
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10. |
Simulator
02:33
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Earthquake someplace
Headline catastrophic!
Hometown nowhere
Background questionable
Deadline setback
Goodbye sense of purpose
Upload keystroke
Bypass operator
Downbeat brainchild
Crossbred transmutation
Someone somewhere
Setup satisfaction
Airlock spacewalk
Backfire suffocation
Newsroom newsflash
Warpath implication
In this simulator we don’t deal in certainties
What abomination have you made up this time?
In this simulator we don’t deal in certainties
Are you happy chasing after happiness?
Certainly
Timeline rewind
Obtuse understanding
Object unsaid
Unheard overstated
Jet black skyline
Unfit aviation
Front page, guess what
We’ve got new sensation!
In this simulator we don’t deal in certainties
What abomination have you made up this time?
In this simulator we don’t deal in certainties
Are you happy chasing after happiness?
Certainly
In this oscillator we all go with cosmic flow
What percentage of the population sees the bigger picture?
In this animator we all smile and say hello!
Have you ever seen it otherwise?
No
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11. |
Used to Be
05:02
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You’re not the soldier you used to be
Tattered green standard grown heavy
Marching offbeat unsteadily
You’re not the artist you aim to be
Your artifice contrived from an inkling
Its beauty barely convincing
You’re not the family man you ought to be
They purse their lips at you in exile
The family tree is cut down, turned to paper, kept on file
You’re not the intellect you thought you’d be
Head gets weary as its carries the worries of its wearer
Sinks deep in the pillow where its buried
Your love just isn’t comforting
Its awfully daunting
And costly in a fool’s economy
Isn't it strange the way the days they frame a picture filled
With what you always wondered if it would or will
Instead we spill our guts on screen for dollar bills
You’re not the soldier you used to be
Burned and turned to ash already
Singed and fringed and weathered
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Vimanas Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Ultimate transaction
On the sale rack
Of everything
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No nonsense Pittsburgh garage rock. Brash Teeth, baby!
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Pittsburgh's best fairy tale obsessed sextet.
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