1. |
The Pattern
04:29
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Another temporary dream slips through my hands
And shatters as it lands, fragile as stained glass
Adorned with arduous detail.
Unmoored, I finally exhale
And mourn what I couldn't do.
Another story wanders in, darkens my room,
And as it pleases comes and goes, and idly intrudes.
Impressed with new information
Expressed by inner narration,
I guess that will do.
Always searching for the perfect words then going untold,
Always out to break the pattern, but never the mold.
That's it—I just didn't want to.
I quit, I'm sorry it fell through,
But I try, really I do.
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2. |
Still Life
02:41
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Who are those people in that photograph?
Their faces look like yours and mine,
But you would never wear your hair like that
And he doesn't look so saturnine.
Still, life goes on the way it always has
And means what it has ever meant.
And so as ever I'm prepared to trust
In whatever meaning we invent.
We will always be weathered and tethered together,
Just you my bellwether and me.
We will always be reaching our hands in the dark to see.
We are always unfolding, hands holding,
Ours shoulders consoling in hours of need,
I will always be holding you closer and closer to me.
Where are those people in that photograph,
And did they ever settle down?
Whatever permanence they're looking for,
I hope it's out there to be found.
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3. |
Congratulations
02:16
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Congratulations, I heard you're getting married in the fall,
And I realized I didn't know how long it had been since we talked,
So I guess I'm checking in.
Do you still live in that studio apartment by the park
Where all of us would congregate at dark to feel seen,
When I believed that I'd never be as old as 23?
Do you remember what your sister said that night
Before you drove me to the airport to catch my one-way flight?
I haven't thought about that evening in years;
I don't remember what the joke was but she had us both in tears.
Can you believe it's been almost exactly seven years
Since I went away only to come back here again,
As if no time had passed since graduation?
So anyway, congrats to you and to your fiancée.
I guess there's not a lot else I can say anymore,
That's alright, I'm just thankful for the time we had before.
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4. |
Photograph
04:27
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You found a photo in your room while you were cleaning up this afternoon:
There's a little white house in the background
Of some poor little kid looking forlorn.
It's from September '98, first day of school and you were running late.
There were tears down your cheek and you were dragging your feet
As you stepped out the front gate.
Your dad held your hand as you turned for a backward glance:
With the curtains all drawn and the overgrown lawn
You weren't sure that you'd be back.
By September '99, you'd got the hang of it the second time,
Now you knew that whatever unfolded
You'd be safely back home before nighttime.
But you couldn't stave off the fates— sat in a U-Haul on the Interstate
You couldn't picture yourself somewhere else,
Let alone feeling safe in some new place.
Now you're driving all alone, just got your license about a month ago.
You still remember every turn, every road, every hill
On the way to your old home,
But you can't find it anymore.
At your old address is just a liquor store in a strip mall
That engulfs the old lawn that you used to see out of your window.
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5. |
On the Horizon
02:29
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And on the horizon the city grows
And spreads and rises and overflows:
A haven for all men who abhor their fellow man.
It's braver for our neighbors while they pick up the slack
And carry the world on their backs.
The treeline dwindles from shore to shore,
And up sprout competing department stores:
It's all we ever may need in a seven minute drive,
And all we have to do is decide which one we want to patronize.
It's all happening here,
It's already happening everywhere
We turn and toil, our hearts in hand,
And stumble and foil our best-laid plans,
And keep on and continue and take it in our stride,
And wait for all the damage to subside
To our solipsistic pride.
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6. |
The Waiting
03:19
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I load the program on my phone
To find some proof that I have ever been known:
Some concert footage, some rubber plants,
Some year's first snowfall and a high school dance—
A thousand memories at once
With all the distance in between folded over to conceal the seams,
Fooling myself with everyone else,
Misrepresenting any truth I had to tell
And all the hours on the shelf.
Always underestimating, I guess I shouldn't be surprised,
It feels like I'm accelerating, moving only with the tides.
I wash up on some foreign shore,
No indication of what came before.
A secret life in some other land
Lived in a language that I still don't understand,
All in the palm of my hand.
It's getting kind of nauseating, no I never could decide,
Always overcompensating, still never satisfied.
Having trouble concentrating, most days I never touch the floor.
Tired of the constant waiting—what will it all be for?
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7. |
Sound Becomes a Song
03:02
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The camera rolls, showing broken-out windows and beaten-down doors,
The ratings soar at six o'clock,
It's a skillful distraction while the story unfolds on every phone.
The secret's out: the law was all aroused and all decked-out,
They're guilty without doubt.
Somewhere off-screen the president cowers and whines and scoffs,
The lights are off, he's laying low,
Hoping this will blow over—or better yet escalate—he just can't wait,
So he lies down and checks on his account.
And on the ground they fire another round.
The sound outside carries on every evening
In every corner of the world with flags unfurled.
The mask comes off and there's no more confusion
Or excuses to make, make no mistake: we got it wrong.
We let it go so long, but if it's strong, sound becomes a song.
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8. |
The Wrong Address
04:28
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I told my secrets to the hardwood floors,
They swore they'd keep them if I told them more.
I couldn't be sure but I had a hunch
I wasn't the first one who shared so much.
Somebody lived here and will again,
Someone with secrets, with lovers and with friends.
If I'm not careful, I could be next:
An unopened letter at the wrong address.
Just for a minute it all seemed right:
You locked the back door and I got the lights,
And every picture hanging on the wall
Watched like a sentry stood proud and tall.
Somebody lives here and always will,
Someone with secrets still to tell.
It won't be easy but I can't accept
An unopened letter at the wrong address.
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9. |
Strangers
06:08
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I was seventeen when I first left home.
I couldn't stand to say goodbye so I turned and left without a word.
I was seventeen and I thought I was alone,
I don't know what it was I wanted, I don't know what it was I heard.
I learned a secret and I swear I'll never tell
Though they tried to keep it from me come heaven or come hell.
From room to room I didn't recognize,
The only solace I found was falling down 4th street every night.
Now I can't trust a word of what they say—who told you?
I know I did, I kept a secret but that's not what I said.
I bathed in perfume, thick and acrid how I like.
The warm air couldn't wait to greet me,
So tense you could pierce it with a knife.
She was grace, though she was strange,
Huddled safe against the window, my discomfort was in vain.
There are strangers in my heaven,
There are strangers in my head, I let them in.
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10. |
Safe
02:42
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I had a dream last night, I don't remember it.
I remember waking up in the dark,
I remember waking up in a sweat,
I remember waking up with the fear of God in my heart.
I reached my hand out under the covers,
Though you didn't wake, my hand found yours
And I felt safe.
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Stuart Wicke Louisville, Kentucky
Stuart Wicke is a songwriter from Louisville KY.
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