1. |
Watery Graves
02:35
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The ships go down with all hands aboard. There's nothing that can save them now. All the wives on shore;the fires on the beach; the children in their beds; their father's dying screams echoing round the head. To the white cliffs below, to all the birds in the tower; dresses bunched in fists awaiting the telling hour. The lighthouse stands on guard, the light flashes and pans, and in this coastal town there are more tears than there is sand. The ships go down. We are going down.
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2. |
Husbands & Fathers
03:19
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You're a perfect case study in what stress and poverty can do to a good man. I know you don't want to hate but lord it's hard not to living here, no matter what you say. And at night I dream of faraway places where I can't hear the sea. The crashing waves; the grinding rocks; returning you home to me. And the sun on the horizon; always further than we would ever dare to go. Fading light on ghosts that won't stop screaming "we know that you know that you should leave this place alone." So go. Just go.
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3. |
Arctic Circle
04:22
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How did you manage to climb the icy rigging, so far up in the Arctic circle? Weren't you cold? I'd have been cold. What were you thinking as you stared into that flat red setting sun? I was dreaming of mutiny. I was dreaming of when I was young. Where did you get these scars? In the shadows of the wilderness. What was there to fear when all around was death? We knew ourselves, and we knew what we had left. I was dreaming of mutiny. I was dreaming of when I was young. Where did you get these scars? I got them when I was young. What were you thinking when I was young?
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4. |
Divorce & Mutiny
04:06
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The good ship Rosalind goes down under the light of familiar stars. I remember cold black noise. I remember sand beneath my palms. I was saved. The lights of my town just down the coast. The beach fires dry, the woman cry, and here I am the sole survivor of this awful shadowed night. I am alive. Under a full moon, above these webs, a string of sparks, the smell of death, turn me away towards the woods, away from my wife, my home, my life. Towards the ghosts. In the woods it was too dark to hear anything.
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5. |
The Forest
02:29
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The wind in the trees is just like fire, like the rustling of curtains just before the stage lights go down. The moon's obscured by clouds, nothing makes a sound. And you are far away, and we are lonely souls. Just how lost am I in this? Would you have made my home? Where are you? A rough push from behind (pull from inside), I trip out into silence. Just darkness past the boughs (bow) and what is that waiting for me? Oh god no.
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