2007
-
Chords
No lyrics for this one. Made at Manly Beach in Sydney while resting out after surfing and before going out for beers.
-
Shake Me
Baby too tired of waiting
Talking so you can see
But you just take it easy
Is this the best you’ll ever be
ever beAnd Johnnys perfecting lonely
He’s taking that walk outside
His head’s just spinning slowly
As his mouth is saying it’s allright
It’s allrightSomebody wake me!
Somebody please!
Somebody shake me!
I am what I don’t wanna be!Taking that ride to sunset
There’s nothing that you haven’t seen
But a friendly well-worn circle
Is everywhere you’ve ever been
Ever been -
Immaculate Stain
Out of the rain
We’re gonna set this right
I was tame
You didn’t win no fight
And then you come around
With songs lost in your eyes
And I can feel you babe
But I’m much too old to try
So I just say..Hold on, Hold on / But I don’t feel
Come on, Come on / And nothing’s real
Hold on, Hold on
Cause the summertimes you bring
Are just platitudes I sing
You’re my immaculate stain
The so comfortable painUnder the skin
I guess our hearts are guilt free
And honestly
You know this better than me
But what we broke away
More wrongs could never right
You know I love you babe
But I just cant seem to hide
So I just say..C
We just can’t winHold on, Hold on / Cause I don’t feel
Come on, Come on / Cause nothing’s real
Hold on, Hold on
And the summertimes you bring
Are just platitudes I sing
You’re my immaculate stain
The so comfortable pain
My oldest pain
My falling rain
Cause the summertimes you bring
Are just platitudes I sing
You’re my immaculate stain -
Gray Man
The grass and torn branches made wet sounds against the worn military boots as the gray man slowly and methodically made his way down the narrow path.
Animal smells hung in the early twilight mist around him pulling at memories of earlier, happier times. Memories so dulled down from years of neglect that their empty husks, as dry and withered as the broken branches under his feet, hardly registered as he focused on the rusted wire fence slowly coming into focus ahead.
His Bahco pliers made small sounds in the still air as he carefully cut the fence across the bottom, squeezed under it, and pulled leaves and branches back to cover his work.
The location was as deserted as could be found from three hours of painstakingly going over illegal print-outs of border patrol reports, but there was no reason to challenge fate. He was too old, and too experienced with the havoc momentary lapses could wreck on the best of plans, to challenge fate more than necessary.
As he got up on the other side and started pulling his way up the hill through the dense brush on the other side, he picked up speed. It had taken six long months to get here, but he was so close now he could almost smell it in the air.
Somewhere ahead, in the sleepy innocence of the kingdom ahead of him, he felt it. Felt the scent of his prey. The grey man pulled at the heavy backpack and carefully made his way down the trail.
ILLUSTRATION: Jon Deboer
