I met you out in the dead of night. we fell in love on the firing line. you said, "no we're not fit for this kind of life. let's dig a trench and wait to die with bullets flying by. so fix your eyes on me and say 'we're home now.' duck down in the dirt, and keep me close. brushing off the faster life - we're slowed down, and if the morning finds us breathing we'll emerge. we fled the east back to monterey. a rental car on the pch. you said, "everything is just about the same. it feels like it was yesterday when we went the same way."
Track Name: Good Ol' Fashioned Greed
when the waking world is televised and the paperback is nullified i can hide inside behind the screen. for every corner store and enterprise theres a working man to supervise who can't link the ends with the means. and we were meant to die on a sunday and leave the working world to their ball game. when the paper's pressed you'll see our names in all their glory on the front page. for every paper god and puppet christ, theres a holy ghost, a poltergeist to set your wandering eyes back at ease. you want some twenty-five-cent good advice? you can cheat your way to paradise with some hard love and good old fashioned greed. for every lowered eye on the subway, between the brooklyn bars and the ballet, for every cigarette and cabernet, never seeing, never looking away.
Track Name: Pay Up!
the wedding band fell from the mold the day it was set to be sold. its ungraceful landing had sullied its mold and sent off as quick cash for gold. they say, "let the chips fall as they may. you can't save your own soul anyway." that's the trouble with fate - there's no concessions made if you're heaven bound or falling from grace. so go and face the facts - you can't get what you have. going backwards won't get you ahead. your crippling defeat, your unbashful retreat when you learned of the price on your head. so pay up! pay up! that's me with the price on my head. the scripture was used as a tool - a good book with the pages removed. the words had grown sharper upon each unsettling view until the fire and brimstone ensued. so have faith in the line that it drew, when it separated "them" from "you." that's the trouble with truth - when the context is skewed, it means anything you need it to.
Track Name: Marcelline
Marcelline, bless your soul. Give to me sweet release from who I will be when I'm left alone. My apathy. My trembling bones. I'm fast asleep and stammering through black and white dreams of an ordinary home. And finally you'll stare like stone down on me, and there you'll see my faithfully turn and follow.
As sure as the sway of the sea, as sure as the powers that be, when we froze in the passenger seat, my love, this is how it's supposed to be.
Your anchored mind, my restless pulse. We apologize whenever we're close, just satisfied by how our breathing spoke. You're impulsive and I'm poorly cloaked, because if it's short-lived, we'll never let go. There's no addiction like what's left an unknown. So Marcelline, bless your soul. You laughed at me and said, "Never grow old. Who we are now is what matters most."