Sitting in the old neighborhood
For the first time in a while since you felt understood
You had to run away from all of that baggage
You had to run to the hills to get your head straight
You said
Now you’re sitting on the stoop
Feeling the ID of it
The little pebbles that make up the big concrete strip
You’re tied to it whether you like it or not
What you can’t climb ain’t what you should be wasting your time with
I could sing all about it
From my one inch stage
I could rhapsodize and harmonize
About days calling out from the grave
Songs like whorls in the grain
Crashing chord curve of the wave
The forever rise and fall of distant unheard melodies
The jagged peaks sing their crooked lines
Why can’t I find the time to carve some of mine
But I’ll sing all around it
Shouting out from beyond the grave
We could talk talk about it
Until I’m up on my self-made one inch stage
I can’t find it
So wrapped up in all the tools you used
I’m stuck in between
supported by 4 fans who also own “Chopsticks Alarmclock”
This is a great album. I will one day own all of the Telethon canon on vinyl, and I’m so glad they found a box of unsold pressings, or else I probably would’ve been shit out of luck finding this gem. biggie_cheese75
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