Chasing Eagles
Lyrics by John Brenner.
Mixed and Measured
Words are dead when nothing's said, like holding water in a net. Trapped and caught up in the thorns, prying hinges from the doors. If we are islands where two times meet, we'll dance with poison promises to keep, plant trees so far in the past that every night will seem like the last. I remember now the sounds, the dying echoes never found, heartbeats growing farther apart, all our time spent comparing scars.
A Likely Story
You're telling me such likely stories that I want to believe they're true. You're selling me such sweet little lies; I can run but barely move. You say everyone lives in the mountains, so I'm always looking up above, while you fill up all these empty spaces with hollow words of love. I forgot to mention all that silence between your words and your deeds. I'd retrace my steps in so many places, but I'm cut off at the knees. You snow down after midnight, darling, with a quiet flapping wings, while I listen to the dark sky falling and slip on Saturn's rings. And when the light shone despite the daggers and staggered across my room, I believed you owned the universe, the sun, the stars, and the moon.
Living Well
Like last clasped arms, these questions nowhere. Two hearts filled with sand. You climb through how many windows, grasping with busy hands? Eyes turning gray, a field of timbre. Much more to say. Do you remember? You're a living well; I've fallen deeply. Your gentle hell, I'm drowning, sleeping. There was a time, out of proportion, when we were living well. And I won't ask for your vision, just wait for you to tell. And the earth, it sings for you, and I'll try to ride the swell. Eyes turning gray, a field of timbre. What more to say? Do you remember? You're a living well; I've fallen deeply. Your gentle hell, I'm drowning, sleeping.
Way Back When
You're walking from room to room at the pace of glaciers. The wind, the wind between the walls, all the too-well-known faces, and every memory. In the bright yellow light of morning, at the top of the stairs, watching dolls leap over the railing, with all your childhood fears, and every memory. Taking pictures in front of the farmhouse, another act of healing, while inside all the dusty doorways, the wallpaper is peeling, with every memory, you're half-way to the sea.
Snowed Under
Crossing the Calvert Bridge, bitter and cold, my fingers frozen, I've lost my soul. So heavy is the air on sunken streets, nothing to dream of, nothing to speak. Far from the harbor, down on the ice, everything in the world before my eyes, the starry ride.
Without Within
You've been so cruel, and I've been a fool. What can I do, but get over you? I'm just a tunnel, and you're passing through. You are the earth and I the moon. Moments, they pass so slowly, for you've got nothing to say. The sponge pressed to my lips, vinegar every day. My name is Trouble, honey, and it's a two-sided knife. So I'll pretend not to care and rob my way through life. Plant my feet on higher ground, don't want to play the clown. But you're off like an arrow, and I'm cut down. These songs, they pass so slowly, the words written in chalk. So I'll hide myself under leaves to keep alive the spark.
Tangled and Troubled
All the savor gone, the wrath before the first song. My soul is no ghost, no secret of Job. My voice is ruptured after another upheaval. I no longer look through the open windows. All the conversations, my words that rained over you, tangled and troubled, another piece of string.
Reprieve
(instrumental)