1. |
Imp Mountain (Acoustic)
01:52
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Come forth, young bard.
Step into the light
And recite
The tale of Sir Albert Ross.
Sing loud, the verse,
That sullied this earth,
One cold miserable day,
Back in old '89.
A sad song is played by a fire
At the base of Imp Mountain.
Nature refrains, for a moment
He plays for the Universe.
Now Albert, from birth
Was bequeathed with a curse
That as long as he loved
All else would die.
Turned bitter, by fate,
His burden he traded for solace
When he solemnly removed his eyes.
Now flowers grow from bleached bones
In a glade, on Imp Mountain.
Albert's remains stain each page of
His unwritten parable.
Come forth, young bard.
Step into the light
And recite
The tale of Sir Albert Ross.
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2. |
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I really hope you're happy,
and really that's no lie,
but last night when I saw you I just
couldn't see the sparkle... in your eyes.
I couldn't hear your laugh.
I couldn't see that smile...
I just couldn't focus
past your glass of wine.
The one that you deemed garbage, but
the best they've got in this shithole dive.
The whole town sank beneath you,
And swallowed me inside.
Now you walk the walk,
talk the talk,
dress the part,
in someone else's shoes, and words,
and clothes they dress you up in,
and it breaks my heart.
The you I knew is gone.
The hills I once called home
Are dead with silence.
They just don't sing
The way they used to.
The golden glow is gone,
The magic left with you.
I thought I caught a glimpse of you.
A few times today
In window glass, a bus that passed,
The mirror with which I'm standing
Face to face.
But somehow you were lost
Beneath a veil of age.
Now you walk the walk,
talk the talk,
dress the part,
in someone else's shoes, and words,
and clothes they dress you up in,
and it breaks my heart.
The you I knew is gone.
Gone forever.
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3. |
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Peasant workers, very low
In dirty fields, and dirty clothes.
The same thing's coming.
Wipe the dust off from your face,
And face your age more each new day.
The same thing's coming.
Time after time.
Time after time.
It's revolution era.
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4. |
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Back for a while in this hometown.
I chose to trade that blackened grin in for this natural
luminescent frown.
Things ain't as they seem in this old town.
Beneath the golden shroud's a corpse I found left clinging to
Dreams I could do without.
So raise a glass with me of fair well whiskey.
Hold your words, and tell me with your eyes how much you'll
miss me when I'm gone.
I won't be here for long, I just can't stay.
I really should be leaving town today.
Tomorrow morning I'll be on my way.
Goodbye to my folks, I'll miss you so.
I hope you know how much I love the warmth of home,
and its phosphorescent glow.
Not that you know, cuz it just don't show.
That awkward kid is back again, and trapped within
the guest room of your home.
So raise a glass with me of fair well whiskey.
A broken dance of awkward glances tells me that you'll
miss me when I'm gone.
I won't be here for long, I just can't stay.
I really should be leaving town today,
but tomorrow morning I'll be on my way.
Jarred awake, at 4 AM.
Haunted memories floating through my head.
A dirty comb rushes through my hair.
I grab my bag, and tiptoe down the stairs
A silent hand, a silent note.
A final glance, a silent back door closed.
I lock you in, then I'm gone
A dirty glass remains, of fair well whiskey.
Hold your head up, don't forget to smile although you miss me
since I've gone
I wasn't there for long, I just couldn't stay.
The time has come that I be on my way.
Tomorrow came, and I left yesterday.
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Down With Me Dover, New Hampshire
Punk rock, old folk, and hard times have shaped Down With Me's songs of nostalgia, change, soul searching, and nonconformity.
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