1. |
The Stars' Bough
01:51
|
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When I went away
I was hope-ening
I was lifting the pine
of the star’s bough
Besting the day
I was amaranth a-nigh
I regaled the soft light
of the molding meow
Hay, one another, a foe
a-sin-like
Whey, oat, a-teeming, a toe
at mid-night
Old man am I
to wait up for morning
Memory, belated sir-“I”
dim-like
If only me I cannot decide
the hang-line
Old man am I
to wait up for morning
Oh, me watching the sight
The weight of my shoulders upon the sunshine
|
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2. |
Odd Home
01:49
|
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Millenia
like private projects
break down
Experience ad lib
might well memory
Occasionally odyssey
odd home
Traveling tricks of the scenery
An eagle, a cow
Put your place in yourself
Odd home
Odd home
|
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3. |
Key Skin Robe
02:52
|
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“Hold the lantern”
the first said ask on
On what single course
the problem will look like?
Wait, around the light
not quite shall why
Go find two sides
The key skin robe survives
Overlapping thought, massive like
that billion, pure might
Might what, single course
the problem will look like?
Know, instead of case
To think that proves wise
Go find two sides
The key skin robe survives
Ooooooooo!
Basic visible
the empty will light
Oh
Ooooo!
Apparent valuable
about that to point
On clear actual night
certain keys come to light
(whistling)
Oooooo!
Calculatable
distinction amount
Oh
Oooo!
Very narrow
affected without
On clear actual night
Certain keys come to light
On clear actual night
Certain keys come to light
because it survives
|
||||
4. |
||||
Narrative appear in the sand
You somewhat fit the scarce dorsal scan
and make, let’s say, subtend oar to track
so when they machine, they can’t trace you back
A-wailing of emote
Instantaneous in gold
Intuit them with a mode
of favoring
Sequence
Test
Hunting at first glance
Request
Guess
Safe night
Yes! but night is externalized
so while you’ll miss the yolk before you arrive
Define, defend rival, mechanical eyes
Resist aside signal, historical, lightest low
|
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5. |
Moonbeam
02:52
|
|||
(unintelligible)
|
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6. |
A Moat
03:56
|
|||
In the gallant
mode apace
In the silent
goad in space
I haven’t got a moat
too much
Alder banks
Bested ceiling
I haven’t got a moat
too much
Cull me back
under the stars
I haven’t got a moat
I hadn’t thought it out
I never watched the mold
I never watched the mount
Oh, me
Cave at the top only
softly
It’s too late for that now
Hold my hand
I’m only
a holding hand
a-marveling the mire
Oh hold my hand
I’m ardor-ing ado
|
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