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Twin Beach Lookout

by Fake Buildings

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1.
White men leaving a hockey game belligerent and drunk, they stumble through the streets like lovers. Sudden fear in the air like beer on the dancefloor of a club I don't know how to move through the haze of it What can I do to put a hammer through the ceiling of this harshness? Something tells me that the answer is concealed out in the fog on the tantramar marshes. New light up in the air today. The sky is snapping in to a sharp almost unbearable blue I wish I was that light I want To float down, slow and thin Into the eyes of my friends and my enemies too. Oh but instead I'm learning how to blaze a pathway through this sharp darkness Learning how to gather all my scattered shards together Like the fog on the tantramar marshes
2.
November cold, like a train gone rogue. Hurling out of the Arctic And into our bones Along the way its blue-grey gaze keeps Setting the trees on fire all over the place. I dig myself in deep for the winter. This is where my enemies live Despair it bares its long black teeth. I will not let it win. November cold, like a train gone rogue. Hurling out of the Arctic And into my bones And if I bend beneath it's blows... If I'm not myself... I hope you know what I'm working through Cause a body must do What a body must do, to be able to sing to be able to make it through till spring
3.
Blue Era 05:22
I had a dream about an era where the ego was a god fit to be praised and raised on high and catered to. And then I woke up with a start to find that era had arrived. I was knee deep in it. you were in it too. I used to worry that the news was fake. Now I worry that it's true. I seem to be surrounded by the colour blue. I had a dream about an era where my parents had departed and I had to learn to make myself anew and then I woke up with the same old desperate need to be admired clinging to me. I cannot shake it loose. I used to float above my life high as a gibbous moon but now I'm down here floating in the Colour blue Oh if you happen to see me soon... Restrain me. If you can... I think I'm on the verge of turning into something I can hardly stand. I used to be afraid of losing my way. Now that's all I do. I'm close to being lost in the colour blue.
4.
This year, I want to work on my witticisms. I want be Quicker with a quip, in the thick of a crowded room. I want to get better at taking criticism. I want to learn how not to tense up so soon, to be less defensive, to live a little more in the present tense. It's true that I should have learned by now, and I am, but it's coming slow. Come see how I'm doing in a year or so. Oh this year I want to pay a little more attention To the parts of the conversation that go unsaid. To the ways that I can help you if you need me. To spend a little less time inside my head, that rebellious ocean. I want to live with my windows open. I know I should have learned by now, and I am but it's coming slow. Ask me how I'm doing in a year or so
5.
Fake Cicadas 04:12
Oh, I'm gonna miss this restless place: the way that the days dive through this magic egg, the smell of the paint on my newly green guitar, the sound of the fake cicadas in the breaking dark, sunday mornings on the porch feeling full and lazy, sitting in the shorts, that your mother gave me. Oh I'm gonna miss this when I'm gone: the billowy pepper scent of a summer lawn, waking up without that much to do, the day inviting us in like a heated pool. I want to celebrate my friends who are Getting married, who are learning with their little hands how to speak anew, who are changing shapes and making plans, who are growing older, who have found new dresses to slip into. Oh, I'm gonna miss this when I'm gone. Even the moments I did not know to dwell on. Even the thoughts that have shaken me awake. I'm glad to have found myself here, in the round blue shell of this magic egg.

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released December 18, 2018

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Fake Buildings Montebello, Québec

Steadily Rusting since 1988.

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