1. |
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Losing all control will never be the same.
Finish with the dirt, and wash it down the drain.
We found another thirst.
We all acquired the taste.
Freedom from the curse gets lost along the way.
Our active and passive voices
seem different than ever before.
I cannot recall a time when I would say
a deep and vicious lie to justify the hate.
But I can still propose a shifting of the blame
to try and minimize someone else's pain.
Our active and passive voices
seem different than ever before.
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2. |
Sunflower
03:05
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Sunflower, where do we begin?
Is it okay to call it good?
'Cause it's hard to fake something
if it ain't born in your blood
You can worry that your life's been wasted
or refuse to compromise.
But I don't know where I'd be without you.
Nobody in their right mind
was born in the 90's.
I'd think that might be enough
to put your mind at ease.
These years can make me restless,
but they're never gonna change my mind.
'Cause I don't know where I'd be without you.
Without you.
I've said it time and time again,
it bears repeating.
There's a thousand reasons why
I'm never leaving.
Sunflower, where do I begin?
Because it's hard to tell where you end.
This love can leave me breathless,
but I'd never try to slow it down.
'Cause I don't know where I'd be without you.
Without you.
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3. |
Life Before Anesthetic
04:22
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Culled from another design,
it's behind you, lost in the valley.
I don't want to be cool just to look like I'm right,
but there's a lot we can do together
if we feel.
Forced from another deep wound,
it's a side you try to keep hidden.
I don't want to live life before anesthetic,
but there's a lot we can do together
if we feel.
Folding back in on yourself,
you've resigned not to tug at the stitches.
I don't want to live life before anesthetic,
but there's a lot we can do together
if we feel.
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4. |
No Choice
02:26
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You suggest so delicately,
devilish and weary tropes.
I'm never good at faking sorry,
but you're leaving-
leaving me no choice.
But you're leaving-
leaving me no choice.
I lost a sense of propriety.
I guess it's good I'm never wrong.
You followed just to see the scenery,
but you're leaving-
leaving me no choice.
But you're leaving-
leaving me no choice.
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5. |
Keys
02:52
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Quietly building a compelling ending,
but you're never gonna rest at all
in bed at the hospital.
Stories and wisdom, paperback fiction,
your keys are in the kitchen.
I'll leave them there in the bowl,
or on the hook at the end of the hall.
I can take them down when they start to rust.
Death has no respect for us.
Death has no respect for us,
but it fears our God and it fears His love.
Death has no respect for us.
Death has no respect for us.
Looking for healing, compassion and reason,
but the keys to the kingdom - they're not for sale.
And the world has gotten stale.
So you bite your tongue, but it tastes like rust,
and your lungs still work, but they're filled with dust.
If you can't find truth, can you start with trust?
Death has no respect for us.
Death has no respect for us,
but it fears our God and it fears His love.
Death has no respect for us.
Death has no respect for us.
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6. |
Where It Leads
03:44
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We don't like the sound of man-turned-parody,
and we don't like his constant repeating.
"Is this real life, or is it just fantasy?"
and is it enough to suffer the consequence
of not being able to tell the difference.
If it seems a long time coming, we'll get over it,
and we'll get over feeling inadequate.
Take me by the hand, we'll run away to find ourselves,
and when they close the roads we'll get violent
at not being able to tell the difference.
It's too late to turn back now.
And it's too late for hallowed ground,
but I would do anything, anything
if it lead to discovering.
I'm carving out a place and building my own mistakes.
They're in the air so thick I can taste it.
If this is your escape, then burn the fleet and carry on.
'Cause at least you're being consistent
at not being able to tell the difference.
It's too late to turn back now.
And it's too late for hallowed ground,
but I would do anything, anything
if it lead to discovering.
It's too late to turn back now.
And it's too late for hallowed ground,
but I would do anything, anything
if it lead to discovering.
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7. |
State Of Intrigue
03:48
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It's all around me, now.
Let's paint the walls and live here.
I'm in a state of flux. I'm in a state of intrigue,
and I'm calling you out.
Yeah.
When we find them in a row,
it might be the best thing for me.
Because I'll never be alone until you come to see me.
It's a beautiful thing.
But I just let it come just to let it go.
If the words will never come,
you'll have to take them from me.
'Cause I'm filled with irony. I'm in a state of intrigue.
Is it bringing you down?
I found a broken heart.
Let's paint the walls and live here
until morning comes.
But I just let it come just to let it go.
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8. |
Fight Of My Life
03:40
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Can we say I'm in the fight of my life for you?
Can we say I'm in the fight of my life for you?
Won't you please make it easy on me?
Won't you please make it easier?
Is there time to start again?
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9. |
Silhouette
03:40
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I was just a silhouette.
None of the color had happened yet.
But you can't want something you don't know.
You were carrying a spark -
a fire inside of a guarded heart.
You can't choose where these things can go.
We were loving sight unseen,
all matches and tinder and gasoline.
We burned it hot, then we burned it slow.
The tie that binds grew frayed and frail
and we fought each other tooth and nail,
and hurt the thing we had tried to grow.
We discarded all our thoughts,
then discovered each other in the dark
and got swept up in the river's flow.
We dug our heels in side by side
and uncovered the bruises we used to hide,
if only to know and to be known.
Some day you're gonna bury me
and skew our line of symmetry.
But you can't regret when a thing hits home.
I was just a silhouette.
None of the color had happened yet.
But you can't want something you don't know.
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10. |
Running Of The Bulls
03:50
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If you wait for me,
if you wait for me I'll find you.
There's a secret you're mulling over;
it's the lie you never told.
If you beat your wings, make sure that you hover.
You thought you'd never have to feel that cold,
but if you wait for me,
if you wait for me I'll find you.
If your heart beats to the pace set
by the running of the bulls,
let your feet grow fragile and brittle.
You're no closer than you were before,
but if you wait for me,
if you wait for me I'll find you.
If your love is growing impatient, it's
just the running of the bulls.
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John Benda Lawrence, Kansas
John Benda is a rock/punk drummer turned sometimes singer/songwriter. He lives in Lawrence, Kansas and is quite pleased with that fact.
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