Lyrics

Saints/Lovers

Bring out the simplest and bluest of souls
In manner of truth and fire of fear
Vacant of anything charred by the coals
Pure witness of love to blind and to near

May the Son sing you along on your way
And the earth sanctify you for today
May the fable you find be of parallel mind
To the saints and to the lovers ahead on the way

Draw from the warmth in the stories you own
Those sculptors of mettle and painters of boats
That tie you to rock; firm spirits you’ve known
That tell you of sinking, but show you what floats

Mortal

The war drum has faded but cold bodies broken
Smear the clean blades of the spring
Of promise and empathy, pushing their way
Through the red and the terror of kings

That topple yellowed and mortal
Mystified, mortified, mortal

The first ray of summer blows in like a chorus
Strains of a tragic lament
Befalling the ears of five thousand dead prophets
Arches of silenced dissent

That toppled yellowed and mortal
Mystified, mortified, mortal

And fall with its timid grasp
Looses a wretched past

The firmness of winter a’grip on a flower
Red, but of red not the same
Unscorched by the tread of the flaming deceiver
Brightness in narrowing lane

That grows now, reddened immortal
Infinite, pure and immortal

Dominion

Four tacks hold McNally’s world
in stationary death
Reimagined tame and bare
and stilled of earthen breath
Dominion charted, skewed and framed
with bands of gold and green
Triumph plotted inch by mile
so tragically pristine

Pornographic rendering of
proud, sadistic rape
A perfect body, cruelly killed
in trying to escape
Dismembered by unfeeling hands
and antiquated knife
It’s rusted blade dividing up
the remnants of a life

And with the spanning of my hands
Four thousand myths are left obscured
Timeless legends, fear and trust
Beneath each bold, unsightly word

Random dots denoting where
unspoken truth has died
Careless punctures symbolizing
flippant genocide
The ink of progress bleeding over
history and pride
Celebrating, unconvinced that
something great has died

Vacant Prayers

Slip silent through vacant prayers
Claim comfort, doubt she cares
Lie and tell her you’re happy now
You’re not

Sharp panic of guilty breath
Drawn mindful he’s still less
The hungry beckoning is first addressed
You’re fed

Don’t forego your blessed pride
Rib yourself for anguished cries
Don’t back down
Don’t dare bring uncommon sighs
She awaits two dozen eyes
Brace for a fall

Slip silent through vacant rites
Die happy in quiet nights
Feel a bit ashamed to feel alright
Alright

Opium and Children’s Toys

A tribute, grown like faithful mold
Of crushing weight on honest minds
There’s optimism to be sold
And virtue, mass-produced, to find

Beleaguering smiles of awful joy
Resigned to hope, and blind to trust
Opium and children’s toys
And sandwich bread without the crust

Disjointed thought and speech combine
To form a tragic paradox
The dissonance and coupled rhyme
A Messiaenic music box

Something

Now that you have wrestled from me
What identity was mine
Forcing shades of controversy
Into acquiescent lies

Robbed me of a voice of anger
Void of empathy, it’s pride
Folding me at your discretion
Plying me with honest bribes

Even now a conscience screaming
Constantly but not unheard
Dulling yet, but still abrasive
Out of place but not absurd

Testifies to depths of something
Plaster under mirrored glass
Murky faithfulness or passion
Out of sight, but holding fast

Lighthouses & Anchors

Hate me for drowning,
I was almost to shore
You were calling me home
when a chill hit my core

But now tide is replacing
Your lighthouse brown eyes
And saltwater burns me
Each time that I cry

Please don’t forgive me
I want all the blame
I’d forfeit my glory
To spare you my shame

But now hope is replacing
My anchor black soul
I hope your religion
Can patch up these holes

Sing

Sing me a beautiful song tonight, please
And after you’ve out-sung the light,
These ears will still see you so brightly

Look somewhere deep inside your voice, love
And find what your melody makes of
Harmony, tenor or bass

Don’t stop singing aloud as I lie
Carry me off to sleep on lullabies
Tell me when I wake up you will
Still sing sweet and high
Sing a beautiful song to me tonight

I don’t think I should close my eyes now
Demons and fears would arise,
How can your voice brighten these dark skies?
And even though there won’t be
any music here tonight
I still can’t help but think that maybe
things would turn out right
But you can’t hear me, and you don’t fear me