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Snake Heads
02:34
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I stopped on the middle of the railroad tracks with my backpack. And I saw a lady holding the head of Buddha, my legs locked up. The birds laughed as I turned around and walked back down, I walked back down. My brain wept, he can't understand but my heart makes sense, he's full, he's tense. The moon laid down his yellow head. The river's mouth was shy as it's ever been. I found myself in silence again. At home I turned on the T.V. and there was God looking back at me. He said, "Hey, listen what I say!" But I say "No way, no way Jose!" And just like a waterfall I cried and walked outside, I walked outside where shined a light. A light that shined so bright my eyes were focused, hocus-pocus. And I dreamt the snake heads went back into the right hands of Marsha and her man. A bakery in Egypt in the sand. Oh, I dreamt the snake heads went back.
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2. |
Oh Black Mountain
02:27
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Oh Black Mountain your blood orange skies and star lit nights were golden. Oh black Mountain you held us close with Rockmont's ghosts and taught us. Oh Black Mountain your natural highs and conscious minds were so true. Oh Black Mountain, Lake Eden walks, our minds get tossed on the old bus. And we smiled in our layered clothes and played our guitars until the morning shown. And the logs we burned in the living room where artists, feds, and rest our heads, I could not move. Oh Oh Oh. Oh Black Mountain on his birthday he played the harp and stiffened up. And we wept and brought him back. We wept, we brought him back.
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3. |
Slugs
03:29
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Like a slug I rest, thinking of which words sound best to tell you the next day or the next. And squeeze you against my chest. Last night as we crawled into bed those three words crept into my head. I was too scared to let them slip so I grabbed your face and kissed your lips. Not simple yet very simple choice, a trigger and spark from your voice. But I knew it's better for us both and I watched you putting on your clothes. A book for you, a gift from me. Let's head to the North or to the sea. Forget the rules and write some poetry, poor a drink and let everything be. And I am not blind, I see love in your eyes. So calm and swaying high like birds on the telephone lines.
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Mountain Babies Port Huron, Michigan
"There's something elemental about it all, like the first deep breath after an inclined climb, when the trees come to a clearing and you see a river, pure, untouched, secret almost... There's also something escapist about it; these tunes are elixirs, daydreams, salves and sweet rejuvenation's." - Jeff Milo ... more
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