1. |
Notes on a Penance
07:57
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Balled up confessions speak
Distances in moments
The length of a world’s width creek.
Nine hundred seventy two days
Measured quickly
by sinking self-worth.
but where am I left?
What is there left?
Just left with nothing but time.
Hours spent on walls
replacing each layers
white over vibrance
Each somewhat alike
Less a distraction
Than a metaphor
Its grip on my back makes my skin crawl
Because you can’t cut out a hole
All I can do is wait for it to scab over
I’ll fill mine with chalk and spirit
It’s an empty ache
Learn a new role.
Reject the whole.
Actions forced permanence
Brief falter your intentions
Harvest the aftermath.
Do away with the moment.
but where am I left?
What is there left?
Just left with nothing but time.
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2. |
Solemnly Swear
04:55
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Each breast and each hip
betray my insecurity
No greedy whip, speech reaction
havent’ seen enough
I think in circles.
How could I ask for more?
I’ll live disappointed. We’re always our failures.
I realize, you’ll always miss what you can’t have.
Each moment left
Betrays my insecurity
No greedy whip, speech reaction
Imply, I’ll never see enough
But I’ll think in circles.
How could I ask for more?
I’ll live disappointed. We’re always our failures.
We realized, you’ll always miss what you can’t have.
Nothing will ever be the way it was.
No way to live.
I still think in circles.
Give in. Give in. Nothing makes the heart grow stronger.
No one will ever excite you
again.
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3. |
A Passage
02:47
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I’ve tried to find meaning where there isn’t,
A passage of frustration, or not knowing one’s limits,
I’m sinking in this, and nothing is pulling me out,
I’ve stared at the words till they rang like a shout.
How long can we stay awake?
How can I put this to bed?
Your broken, broken body.
How long can I keep this at bay?
(Dina, The Bhatti too hottie)
These familiar roads aren’t doing much to help,
This sinking feeling, This dead place.
Family and friends only make it harder,
Their happiness in the face of it all.
I can’t shed these feelings,
It’s a dull ache, not a sharp pain.
(It’s a dull ache, not a sharp pain)
And it won’t go away,
(It’s a dull ache, not a sharp pain)
And it won’t subside.
(It’s a dull ache, not a sharp pain)
It’s a dull ache, not a sharp pain.
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4. |
A Decade in Salt
04:58
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You really made a mess of things,
Really made a mess of me,
Crafted over time,
These messes of men.
How could you think,
It was all your own?
Arrogant and alone.
You were crafted over time,
A mess of a man.
Christ!
Let me out,
Christ,
Let me out,
Confined to this,
I’m nothing more
A whimper,
How can I defy this?
Eyes rolled back,
Is this it?
Shake and sweat, finished,
Such weak things.
I’m not,
Not dealing very well,
A defter hand, an ink well,
You’re skin and bones,
(skin and bones)
Glass and parchment,
Such a weak thing.
In these weak hands,
Weak hands.
Let me out,
Christ,
Confined to this,
I’m nothing more
A whimper,
How can I defy this?
My vacant eyes,
And yours are nothing but lids.
Is this what I am?
Afraid to confront myself,
In your still hands,
Still hands.
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5. |
Camus
03:26
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Look at what we’ve built,
What does it mean?
And will it stand?
Does it ever matter?
These are such small things,
It’s the start of our crumbling homes,
I accept that letting go and growing older are the same.
And we are less than this,
A truth we can’t avoid,
What we’ve made can’t last
In its shadow, in this place.
Its angry twisted apathy has found its home,
Inside of ours.
And we are less than this.
And we know,
We are weaker than stone.
We’ve built this to prove,
That we are
We are less than this towering truth we can’t avoid,
The start of crumbling stones.
We accept their weight,
And build something new.
We accept their weight,
And build someplace new.
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Juna Atlanta, Georgia
Juna is Hunter Whitehead, Sasha Schilbrack-Cole, Kenneth Driggers, Mikey Heptinstal and Garrett Knighton
Contact: band.juna@gmail.com
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