1. |
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2. |
Island
02:43
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I live on an island
the ones I want are close, so very close to shore
I stayed locked by land while they explore
I fear them to be washing away
roads have stretched out long and I can’t go too far
I hold yesterdays in my arms and put tomorrows at bay
and i’m not a saint.
I watch the sun order the morning to rise,
to mark the hundredth time i’ve woke with a heavy mind
loading thought through the course of the day like a train aimed for night
crowded with no station in sight
and I might long for ground below my feet turn my back on memories
I can’t remember where I placed my loyalties
and i’m not a saint.
I am seeing faces in the trees I seem limbs in the leaves
my thoughts are displaced I am blurred by daydreams
and by the night I am greeted by hot white stars
I have killed another day and am now lonesome for where the water lays
I live on an island held by a ring of shores
I long for them but am not sure what for.
And I’m not a saint.
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3. |
Tell the House
02:52
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If I leave you alone,
you’ll pace around the house,
spend hours trying to figure out,
what’s been dragging you down south,
on a lost cause.
Just because you hate to be on your own,
so you drive,
try to make a new home.
If I leave you alone,
you’ll leave a letter with your plan,
well I can barely read,
the doubt runs through your hand.
Gonna leave an empty house for the night,
you wouldn’t go behind my back,
if you thought you were right.
But you know that it’s wrong,
and on the phone,
the miles can’t mask your shame,
I can tell it in your tone.
If you leave me alone,
gonna talk to the walls ’til the doorknobs bleed,
gonna tell jokes to the windows ’til they’re on their knees,
gonna dance with the floorboards too,
gonna do anything, but think of you.
Acting a fool,
under the same moon,
tomorrow we can pretend to forget,
but for tonight,
I’m telling all these empty rooms.
If I leave you alone.
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4. |
The Great Plane
02:30
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Sometimes the sky opens
and i am given a plain sight.
One headed west high over land over night.
And when i meet the pacific
it’s not the flight giving me red eyes,
but the heat of an old flame boiling my blood,
with no holes for a hide.
Sometimes the sky opens
and I become glued to illusion,
caged by fantasies.
Thought they belonged to California
but that prison stretched East.
I am lost in Queens
My thoughts are mapped to an old king.
i play out a hundred unresolved scenes
but the boroughs and the dreams bring me dead ends, happy nothings.
Sometimes the sky opens
and out come birds perched on my windowsill
for me to gaze
but if i leap they leave only feathers for my hair.
You are the wound i wear,
a story I share,
my infamous tale.
Sometimes the sky closes
and I am given a clear view
of the miles of armor worn to face through.
To a side I’m well versed waiting to abandon
to a side that bites at my heels.
Well I have chosen my side for a time
and I leave all flight to the birds.
But I will keep the feathers in my hair.
Sometimes the sky.
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Robin Bacior Portland, Oregon
Robin Bacior is a multi-instrumentalist and songwriter. Her work has received praise from NPR’s All Songs Considered, Vh1,
MTV, NYLON, L Magazine, CBS, Mother Jones Magazine, among other media platforms.
She is the recipient of a Regional Arts and Culture Council Grant, a nominee for the Independent Music Awards, and a member of the Recording Academy.
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