-In the 90s-
Settle on foreign shores, scalp the fishermen.

Shelter our common cold, the land’s the pilgrimage.

Colonial revival, we’ll have one more.
Subjugate the locals. Should have lied about their homes.
Smash the pediment. Should have lied about their bones.

We are red.

Pensioned Ecuyer’s pox reform, keep the change, we want the Colorado.
Mission revival style.

Keep warm. Keep warm warm

Visions, after me the deluge, blankets woven for the local color.
Visions tied to their shoes.
Mission revival style.

-Great Ships-
Vision’s a must, stitch a common thread. They re looking to gas us up. Can’t hear a word I’ve said, but you get the point.

Pull the strings on the cut in. I was a palpable boy. I was in line to get it, but I’m better than soil, better than beach.

-Rattlesnake Eggs-
Born — Bred : Elevated
Had — Fall : Bail him out
Grow — Feet : Ink is bleeding
Crime — Bought : Call it down

Rhyme reason? They bought us out.
Rhyme reason? They take us on.
Bi-part they call the season.

Hard — Stride : Fight the many
Plug — Holes : Murdered Crows
Choose — One : Ready been done

This is the fall sister. This is their fall system. Let’s take the fall sister

Is this worth fighting for?

-Five Senses-
The five senses have dulled all across a nation. If we’re the future of architects give us anchors. Five senses have dulled.

-His Tambourine Will Kill You-
The words they get out on the street.
You’re sticking in till daylight.
You speak at lengths about your week.
The glow that burns at all times.

Call it back on open soil.
You check the door, it locks twice.
Board the ceilings to the floors.
A secret knock’s design.
A lot of loose ends.

The sounds at night, you better keep it at home.
The sounds at night, you better leave it alone.

The station’s birds are on the heat
They never miss a spot sight.
Cover passes on the beat.
Strain to keep the sleep tight.

This isn’t the sound of revolution. This is the sound of all the loose ends.
Walk out in daylight. You can not walk out in daylight. You keep your arms closer in tight. You keep your arms out of daylight.

-Forecast-
What’s the weather look like? Did you predict all these times? Did you see all these days?

So you buried your work deep, under miles of earth. Yeah we’re left with the bill. You know we weren’t the first. We’ll be sweeping the stairs long after you’re not around

What did you think? Did you figure it out? Did you just figure it out? We’ve seen you laughing around. From your big houses. We’ve seen you looking around. So where ya goin’?

-Books 1R-
The reel goes on and on.
Those books they taught you from.
Did they have chapters on lies and losing/loose ends?
Like victims only bleed and culprits only sew.
It’s fiction if I can prove it.
The list goes on and on.
It’s better if I can prove it.

I’ll be the same. You better take the money and run.

-Mirada Mirada-
I know it I’m singing off time; I’m hopin’ you spin a little light.
Yeah I’m hoping the structure survives; hold it, dance for the time alone.
I know we’re digging up mines, but I hold them, keeping good time.
Well I’m hopin I’ll dance for the times, yeah I know it, you spin your little light you’re gone. We’re good for the times. (Jonesy mysterious)

-Vultures-
They’re signing all of their checks, on the way down.
You know it’s harder to breathe with you on the floor.
I’ll give you all of our bread, if you speak now.
I’ve got all of your words for the line-up.

When you’re on the sands, you will dry up.
When you’re all asleep, I will wake up.
Exhibit all of your thoughts on the floor.
When the words don’t match, just invent more.

Lay the bricks on the scene then you clear out.
Strap the verbs to our feet, you will follow
Cutting circles above, patience pays out.
But when you’re counting the change, who’s on the back?

You can not beat the sands.

Circle overhead shining their lights.
Through towers big and tall, unoccupied.
Anticipate the kill of the line-up.
And when the bait’s laid out, you will follow.

-Fiscal Years Here-
“Barter’s out the symbol’s alive” the workers shout from the lines. Markets shake to the sound of the new sign made portable. The bankers sing for their tithes, you can hear them singing. “It’s mine, all mine, my oh my.” You see in our eyes, a hallowed device. Devised to keep collectors comin’.

Sort it out, the beggars from mimes, looks are cheap but don’t lie. This is a promise of debt, this is a promise of class division. Bought for the times, a capital capital device. Devised to keep collections hungry.

Your opinion, how much is it worth?

-In the Sands-
I see you sinking, I see you sinking. The more that you move, you fall down. Work, what’s on the ceiling?

-Feelin’ Like Salieri-
Living wage when you’re in the grave. The hustle’s the same no matter what the game. You can’t define a man; you can’t define him by what he owns. You can’t define a woman; you can’t define her by what she owns.

-L.A. is a Desert-
We want the choir population. We set the fires in the hills. With one voice choral congregation, spit miles of sediment and steel. I know you’ve got your obligations. I know you’ve got a long walk home. One voice this is congregation, one voice separates the hills.