1. |
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(…singer of the non-profits…destined to fulfill the prophecy at hand…ah yes, the great disappearing act…)
Predisposed for calibration
Trade free will to transcribe dictation
Drink the kool-aid of the princess
Run such lucrative business
Wed the CEO, granting corporate disdainment
Makeovers and Whole Foods arrangements
Read the lines, enchanted
Bask in things that are granted
(…death lies in the dormant state of predictability…no surprises, pages unturned…nothing to talk about…)
And if this place & time dictates…
…to get your piece of the pie
I saw from above you walk across the street
Alone and coated against the iced grey morning
If stripped of the things
Those ashen blessings
& left just to sing
with you
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2. |
Discovery
04:58
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Hovering with the air ducts, embedded above suspended ceilings
Mentally rehearsing while waiting for the call on the radio
On other days assigned, but not always to my consternation
To where the thick sun beat down on the humid, relentless season
Discovery
Discovery
Anticipation of something against
With which to unite brings a fervor
Of identity
Exposure to the uptown northern front porch of the city
45 minutes, the tape has flipped in accordance
With the scent on my hand that’s with me for the whole ride home
Sailing the seas with pilots of the stone temple
Dancing with sharks to music of Jurassic nature
Discovery
Discovery
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3. |
The Organic Mechanic
04:00
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Noble intention of the fairest trade
I feel like shaking off some guilt today
Spits on the dashboard of mass production
Schooled in the art of internal combustion
So if your wheels need aligning & your tires are out of balance
Take my advice and don’t panic--
Just call the organic mechanic
Got to get my fix while I’m feeling pretentious
The fire of the pacifist burns contentious
Blowing on the whistle while he lowers the emissions
Homegrown, grain-fed, and he flushes transmissions
So if your carburetor’s bad or you think you’ve blown a gasket
You can count on him, so don’t panic--
Just call the organic mechanic
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4. |
Three Rivers Road
03:47
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I drove across tiger stripes
In the night, in the quiet
For miles with eyes wide
Far removed from all the sights
And I turned into the marsh
Onto a road of broken hearts
That was my first time on Three Rivers Road
See a different life
From the one I saw on Pike
Renovate and redefine
With the help of time
As I turned down the road
I noticed I had found my way
I’d found my way without a sign for Three Rivers Road
I heard the sounds of the night
The sounds of light
That I had longed to hear
For all, all the years
And I hope this ain’t the last time
Because I need some more time
But there’s a smile in my mind
That I am sure to find on Three Rivers Road
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5. |
Starry Night
06:20
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Panoramic night, all the stars align
And so reveal, spectacle divine
In my darkest hour
Would the gods conspire?
Flower of the sun
Must have been the one
Thinking about falling into you
Will hold me over until tonight when I do
Even in the shame
Your love was the same
Flower of the sun
Must have been the one
Hand me my watch
Hand me my coffee mug
You have made all the difference
Across the worlds of Flagstaff and Chicago
Does evolve under our constellation
Through the storm monsoons shines the stars and the moon
Of Vincent van Gogh proportion
In my darkest hour
Rests a sunflower
Must have been the one
Always were the one
Hand me my watch
Hand me my coffee mug
You have made all the difference
Across the worlds of Flagstaff and Chicago
Does evolve under our constellation
Through the storm monsoons shines the stars & the moon
Of Vincent van Gogh proportion
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6. |
The Unfortunate Realist
03:00
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But consider changing the title
From The Cynic Manifesto
The first words out of his mouth
Inspired by the news on the radio
Dig the unfortunate realist
Dig the unfortunate realist
Be that as it may
Pull back on the reins
And monitor exposure
To the black & cancerous sun
Dig the unfortunate realist
Dig the unfortunate realist
Due place for the unfortunate realist
Due place for the unfortunate realist
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7. |
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Make sense of the senseless with a sensory scheme
That was cast of the die of the ancient queen
Whose tempering of the tempest breast off which he weaned
Was countered by the pulsing of a Rockwell dream
Fast forward through the centuries to a virgin land
Where the nihilist roams on his knees & hands
Temporarily moving the appliances
Across the sinkhole crater borne of the abyss
Amidst the furniture & carpet that was soiled & stained
Overcome & cloaked in a rageful shame
Presenting his case to be heard & seen
But was faithless in the favor of the ancient queen
Noble suitor
Seeks Andromeda’s grace
Gilded soldier
Burned at the stake
Lone, supple descendant
Had renounced his name
Young, tender suitor
Burned at the stake
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8. |
For Lease
06:35
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In the still. timeless shift out of late afternoon does the dull grey sky harness the winded evening
I can recall your thick, gray cotton sweatshirt when you quietly came upon us
and she doesn’t even know it
she sits across from me here high above Chicago, but the dark night won’t let me make out her eyes
Taken my heart for languished ransom, and I don’t find myself minding at all
What makes her such a source? Such a softly ardent brown source with freckled blazonry?
and she doesn’t even know it
If you only had an inkling of an idea as to how you light this spirit….do you know? Do you know?
In the midst of mountains, in the midst of the sands, in the midst of the complex pool…
I could have sworn I saw you
I could have sworn that that was you
Can I sit with you?
Can I sit with you?
Could I be so lucky to sit just next to you?
She sits in a youthful crouch with her knees to her chest, only looking on with lips curled inward
How precious when the moment arrives that her silence gives way to an enchantingly awkward offering!
and she doesn’t even know it
If you only had an inkling of an idea as to how you light this spirit….do you know? Do you know?
In the midst of mountains, in the midst of the sands, in the midst of the complex pool…
I could have sworn I saw you
I could have sworn that that was you
Can I sit with you?
Can I sit with you?
Could I be so lucky to sit just next to you?
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9. |
Cage Match
04:48
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Like the stale smell of an old, familiar car
Does it hit--upon arrival in the terminal
It’s a cage match between the past & the present
Do you tap out or break free of the submission hold?
Lifetimes juxtaposed
And I wait just a couple more minutes
Before pulling down the shade--so I can see it fade away
And who, who walked these streets
That bore life, demons, and innocent limitations
Lifetime left behind
Does a new sound linger beyond duplicitous cacophony?
An integrated orchestration of disintegrated boundary?
Thrust into the ring to weigh the validity of reconciliation
It’s a stretch to claim high ground & resolution
But it’s fair to feel the fairer weather
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Brett Wetzel Chicago, Illinois
Brett Wetzel began his music career as a singer and lyricist. Over time, he developed interest in writing and composition by learning to play various instruments. He's written and recorded multiple albums in his home studio--from a 4-track recorder 20 years ago to a digital 24-track board today. Some of his live shows are solo, while some are with a backing band of fellow musicians/friends. ... more
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