1. |
Wide Open Inside
03:58
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He was born in a town filled with athletes and fields,
Where a sensitive soul needs a bodily shield.
His shell was a prison with bars that don't yield
To the beauty he pictures inside.
He decided one day to go outside and play.
The boys talk a big talk with their guns on display.
But he'd brought a paintbrush to the knife fight that day
And the world quickly makes up its mind.
So run... run... into the wide open inside
Run... run... into the wide open inside
He tried to keep quiet, he tried to stay sweet,
He snuffed out his sparkle to keep himself safe,
But soon he would learn even words can have teeth,
And they deal a mean blow to the mind.
So he boarded a train to the city one night,
Swaddled in blankets of concrete and lights,
Sheltered by buildings that climbed toward the sky,
He'd finally learned how to fly.
So step into the cave of your pain and your grief,
Climb for a while 'til you find some relief.
Go to the place where your song bears its teeth,
And bring the thing with you outside.
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2. |
Jeannie Frances
04:24
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Homeroom 1996, I was just a new kid at your school
Probing adolescent eyes and whispers made me feel like such a fool , but there was you
Voice like a butterfly and openness to meet folks where they’re at
Music in your throat and lines of poems sprouting from your hands
Nothing fake and nothing planned
Oh Jeannie Frances don’t you cry
One day your heart will open wide, and that harsh wind will help you fly
And over time - you might find
There’s no need to wonder why
No Jeannie Frances don’t you weep
You have the prettiest of eyes even though you don't believe
With a kind of gleam - that you can’t see
But you should know you’re always beautiful to me
We became fast friends and soon we shared all of our secret hopes and fears
When ridicule became too much we’d build each other up and sing through tears
But I still tried hard not to see…
You knew things about me that I couldn’t or I wouldn’t know myself
When someone you loved needed you, you’d fold your dreams and wishes on the shelf
Rang your kindness like a bell
There was sadness in your smile and some kind of pain behind your eyes
You tried on every costume that there ever was to try
Kept giving love and grace away in hopes to find a way to love yourself
Busy healing hearts but all the while just wishing you were someone else.
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3. |
Mark's Song
05:18
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Jars of purple hair dye lined your shelf
with dull eye pencils, pigments meant to reinvent yourself.
You decoupaged the walls and hung up branches sprayed with gold,
Finding ways to make shit shine, the life left in what's old.
Your shine was just too much for that mean town.
You tried to give 'em sparkle but they'd only knock you down,
And when they left you bludgeoned, bruised, and bloodied on the tracks
You knew it wasn't in you to grow hard and give it back.
You knew yourself in a way I never have.
I drown in drops of water before I draw the bath.
No sooner would your swim to shore than an earthquake split the sand,
but you'd crawl your way through rubble to my door
to ask me how I'd been.
There were times when it was hard to be your friend,
And even flames of friendship need some fanning now and then.
A phoenix needs some embers left to rise from like the sun.
An alley cat can only gamble nine times 'til she's done.
So I guess that what I'm saying's I'm not mad,
'least not with you, how could I be with all the hurt you've had?
I wish that I could offer something more than a cliche,
But your shine was just too much for me to capture on a page.
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4. |
Hounds of Love
04:22
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5. |
November Song
05:09
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Been spending all my mental currency
On these chilly, wine-drenched nights
Like a lamp left on for nobody
In the short-lived evening light
No one wants to be alone
When the autumn chill sets in
And daylight flickers and lets out a groan
As the night seeps in at four pm
If I can claw my way out of the pit
Crack through the coffin, climb outside
Maybe the pills will help me give a shit
Maybe I’ll find the silver line
I’m jealous how the sun puts gold inside your eyes
And I’m bitter that I missed it for myself
And as the late-bird beats its wings across the sky
I let my dreams expire on the shelf
I’m overcast with some stray showers
A cold room left with windows bare
Homesick for the rooms that held your laughter
And the feeling it was me who put it there
Sometimes soft’s just not enough to keep me warm
Like a cotton scarf to shield me from the storm
I need the itch of something scratching on my skin
To remind me of the body I’m stuck in.
So I’ll settle in inside the solemn monochrome
Of darkness at the day’s close in November
I’ll let these winter words spill out and soothe my aching bones
As I huddle toward the warmth of dying embers.
But if I could claw my way out of the pit
Crack through the coffin, climb outside
Maybe the pills will help me give a shit
Maybe I’ll find the silver line
Pull myself up and out and off of it
Trudge through the dark and lengthy night
Maybe November’s just the worst of it
And by December I can smile.
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6. |
Bright Light
03:51
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Good morning love
When your eyelids lift it's just like someone
Lifted up the blinds inside our room.
And I recall
The first time that I saw you smile, I felt my
Heart crack open... did you feel it too?
You're like the days in summer
Waking bright and late to slumber.
I am like a stormy, color-changing sea.
In the evening just before I rest my head
And in the morning when I rise
The greatest gift is knowing that I'll always get to see the shine
In your eyes
You're my bright light.
Good evening love
Each time that I hear you laugh it snaps me
Back into the present, here and now.
And do you know
No matter how lost I may seem sometimes
Your smile can always help me find the ground?
Hello my love
We're like two puzzle parts, each one uniquely made,
One out of wood, one out of stone,
But we've still got
Some common edges and related angles,
Put together they look just like home.
Good morning love
When your eyelids lift it's just like someone
Opened up the blinds inside our room.
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7. |
Wake the Dead
04:30
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Whistle in the wind on a summer night with a heat so thick it hums,
Feel a ragged rhythm inside of my chest that's beating like a kettle drum
Gonna lift the latch, fling open the curtains, raise my chest and lift my head,
Suck the boiling air deep into my lungs, let out a cry that could raise the dead.
I wanna wake the dead
Disturb the beast, shake the part of me that's sleeping, and wake the dead.
I'm ready to wake the dead.
Baby tried hard to tame my mess, gave me a roof, 3 meals, 4 walls,
Said that only he could love me best but now baby's been a long time gone.
Now demons are only angels with slightly cuter shoes,
And my demons are not remotely conquered, they've just been barely subdued.
Heard the siren call of the open sky and now I feel it's time to choose.
If I run I might not be sure to win but if I stay I'm bound to lose.
I'm gonna light the match, set off a holy fire, and wake the dead
Whistle in the wind on a summer night in a heat so thick it hums,
Feel a ragged rhythm inside my chest, it's beating... like a god damn drum...
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8. |
Heretic
03:41
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The air is angry today
It’s tight and still like it’s just holding its breath, and it
Feels like I showed up to late. Was I just
Sitting pretty waiting for a swift painless end?
Spent thirty years underground
Stuffed inside a box, dressed in a suit and a tie
Barely making a sound
Dreaming of a gown and rooms with views of the sky
But I’m not coming home
No I’m not coming home
I’m not your wayward sister
Ain’t your prodigal son
I’m not angry but I’m not coming home.
The sky is seething today, there was a
Time when I’d have said that god was shedding his tears
But now I know it’s only the rain, if someone’s
Crying it’s the earth bearing the weight of our fears
I feel alone and exposed
It’s just my bright red heart against the stark grey sky,
My only power is my own
There’s no one flying in to save me so I might as well fight
And now I'm not coming home
Whither thou goest I no longer will go
Ain’t your repentant harlot
Or your Saul on the road
Don’t need forgiveness and I’m not coming home.
So paint me a heretic and hand me my broom, give me an
Alter to indifference in a quiet room,
Won’t be comunning at your table or heading your call, because the
Land of milk and honey's just outside of your walls
And I am not coming home
No I’m not coming home
I’ll make my own pillar of clouds
And burn the bush on my own
Don’t need forgiveness and I’m not coming home
No I am not coming home
Whither thou goest I no longer will go
I’m not your wayward sister
Ain’t your prodigal son
I’m not angry but I’m not coming home...
Don't need forgiveness and I'm not coming home...
No I'm not angry but I'm not coming home.
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Jessye DeSilva Boston, Massachusetts
Jessye DeSilva (they/she) seamlessly blends theatrical pop elements with traditional folk and roots music to form their piano-driven alt-americana sound. She infuses hope into songs about religious alienation, mental health struggles, and societal injustice to create a uniquely queer and unholy ruckus. ... more
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