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1 Everyday Escape
2 Habits Forming
3 Summer Savior
5 Come On Move On
6 Singing Second Chances
7 Be There, Be There For Me
8 Given Away
9 Nighttime Ride
10 Muscle Memory
12 Braver (I Hardly Know Her)
“Everyday Escape” (C. Moore)
Shake off that skin, / shake it loose; there’s no room within. / Fold it over, peel it back. / Pale and paler, there’s no space for that which you lack. / Take down that name, / just don’t forget you play another game. / And you’re not alone; / though you’re apart, more than a part of home follows you… / Trace the tracks of your mind before you. / Don’t think it back; you’ll catch up well before you do / something that isn’t you. / Take down that speed, / smooth out the tach: out here there is no need. / And don’t you fret: / someday soon, there’ll be time to ponder, regret. / The everyday is where we stay, / and you control the getting yourself away. / So goes the path that should: / the one you scrawled along the walls of your childhood… / Out here, time is fallen. / Out here, lives are falling. / Make your life the one that got away… / Trace the tracks of your mind before you. You go alone, but that’s a metaphor to / remind your mind you’re going far too far to race into ruts except your bonds eternal – you / can’t think it back; you’ll catch up well before you do…
“Habits Forming” (C. Moore)
Falmouth to Santa Monica, and I ain’t comin’ back. / There’s a long road ahead of me, and I don’t wanna crack. / Ran out of bags to pack, so I hit this road. / Got only life alone; it’s not holding its own. / I’ve not been looking back; been moving ahead. / Life is more than just a journey out of the red. / I’m cashing in my chips, leaving the change, / droppin’ the bills behind me – rearrange… / When there are habits forming, I’m moving on… / I’ve seen what’s become eternity: three decades slowly bleeding out of me. / I’m saying, “No thank you,” can’t you see? I’ve seen, and I’m running out for me… / Three days from on the road, and I’m caving in; / a life with some different burdens has yet to begin. / Tacked down and traded in what I couldn’t flee; / I’m about as close as you can get to just me. / Never avoiding what I can’t really see… / And I can’t pick up at all. I’m tired of, tied up, trying not to fall! / And you can’t see me at all, even when you take your time, trying to listen to it all… / So here I am again; this is getting old, / remembering what I never wanted to wait to unfold. / This time, there are no bags, no chips to cash, / just one man screaming through it: “Let’s surpass!” / Where there are habits forming, I’m moving on!
“Summer Savior” (C. Moore)
Summer savior, right beside me now. / Sun is shining, clouds declining, / what a day to spend outside alone… / Here’s your chance to tell her how you feel… on the phone. / Summer savior right beside me now! / How can I know what to feel when I don’t know even a thing about you? / Not a whisper, not a scrap that matters save for faces in the dark, in the… / Parking lots and backseat driving safe for now beside you in the dark, in the dark… / Off and out there, covering ground now. / Once was lonely, apparently / I’ve carved a path adhering to myself, / shaking off the dust I picked up while on the shelf. / Summer savior, down in front right now! / Strum along, dance to the song, we’re born to long for what we’ve come upon. / Spotlight shining, stars aligning, sound check’s done, we’ve come into the sun, to the… / Tremble voices, rivulets of salt streams cinching eyes closed down upon, down upon… / There you go putting spin on all that I’ve ever been, ooh… / A wind that won’t let me down. / Summer savior, right beside me now. / Sun is shining, clouds declining, / what a day to spend outside alone… / Here’s your chance to tell her how you feel, on your own…
“Don’t” (C. Moore)
Isolated lives go by, circle round each other, / staked tight to minds that could never be bothered. / Cyclin’ by each other, smothered, status quo balanced, / back by nine, sublime, with the frame frozen… / Never knowin’ where we’re goin’ – / never seein’ where we’ll be: / that’s the way it’s always been… / Don’t let yourself cover for yourself; / don’t let yourself be bought and broken. / This is why all the songs are written. / Follow one procession: metallic, clanking production line-life. / At the end, all the prize is? Reeling the laundry back from the line! / Insular, phenomenal, until the spotlights sharpen / all the lines wrinkled across faces of one-time brothers-in-arms… / Well, this is where we’re going, and this is where we’ve been; / no need to repeat it when it’s happening again. / Well, this is where we’re going, and this is where we’ve been; / no need to repeat it when it’s happening again. / Again and again, again and again… / Again and again and again and again and again and again and again…
“Come On Move On” (C. Moore)
In my best “I love you” voice, I told you you had a choice. / In your best “don’t hurt me” tones, you told me to leave you alone. / Without any hesitance, you held your ground, firm in your stance. / I was shocked by your distance; I guess they say, “And so it goes.” / Night after night, girl after girl, / hold each one dear, make her your world; / but when you’re done, come on – move on! / I can say I’m not the first; I can claim it’s all been done. / And that’s just the problem, love: that I have already won. / It’s me alone inside my mind; I’ve thought it out (I’m so refined). / After all my logic, dear, it’s all your fault – the truth comes clear… / Come on, move on. Come on… just move on!
“Singing Second Chances” (C. Moore)
I’m not proud of some of all of the memories I’ve made. / Imprints fade but never wash; I ignore them for a cost… / The cost of coming back together to fall apart the same all over, / adding ink to my shirked habits, temporary second chances… / Say I’m not coming back this way; / it’s been over for too long. / And every time we fall together, / I fall, I fall without any say. / Looking back to yesterday, I pick and choose the frames that fill me, / fill me up with histories of truth and tales, embellished wishing… / I can write the page as I choose, yet there’s more for someone twisting; / pick the worst, rewrite the gray lines, outline me into my “true self”… / Looking back to tomorrow, it seems so right, it seems so wrong / with all that I’ve accomplished stacked beside my rotting failures…
“Be There, Be There For Me” (C. Moore)
Be there, oh be there for me. / Started off just thinking about all the lives that might’ve been. / Came back to the conclusion it was better “way back when.” / Oh, be there, be there for me. / Been around all the talking around admissions turned to “no regrets.” / Broken down, been not very sound, not fond of the hallowing… / Oh, be there, just be there for me… / Don’t you follow lightly: / good God, keep your feet warmed and timely! / Be there, oh be there for me. / Cut backs can’t cut no slack when all that rises is the lack; / trees bending anecdotal wisdom into facts (of necessity)… / Be there, oh be there for me. / Jump, drive, pound, resume functions, shake, twist, and come around. / Before you knew it, you all went through it; not difficult to astound. / Oh, be there, just be there for me. / Oh, be there, be there for me… / Kicked off with conclusions and cutthroat calculations, / bodies spinning, gravitating toward miscommunications… / Oh, be there. Just be there for me.
“Given Away” (C. Moore)
I carry the burden of what I could’ve been every day. / Breaking outside of the alarms, the vigilant trickling of what I had to be / giving way… given away. / There’s not much left to scrape from this, / so I’m off and down the road / finding a way that hasn’t been given away… mmm… given away. / A meeting of souls and a rending of bonds nearly decade-long / led from the outcry to “Goodbye”: unfolding character I’d given up for gone, / I’d let my say… be given away. / There’s not much left to say for this, / except I’m on my way / to finding a way that hasn’t been given away… mmm… given away. / Said, “Hey, hey, hey, won’t you come away / to where we can’t go wrong, we’re just getting along everyday? / Now, won’t you come away? said, ‘Hey, hey, hey!’ / You’ve got to pony up, baby, and pay for what you once gave away.” / I carry the vision of what life might still be in me every day. / Old habits being what they are, I’m hard-pressed to step back or come back or turn away / or even stay… is that giving away (what could be)? / There’s so much left to say for this, / so I’m off and down the road; / I’m on my way to a day that hasn’t been given away… shim-sham? given away! / I carry the burden of what I could’ve been every day…
“Nighttime Ride” (C. Moore)
I can be experimental just like you. / I can pull the freaky and weird tricks you do. / When I get on, I won’t be lost in a song; / I’ll have pulled apart on my thread a bit too long. / Maybe you’ll see it isn’t quite freedom that rings; / it’s the bells and the whistles and the fleeting pleasures of the cha-cha-chings. / Don’t you wish you were anywhere but here? / Don’t think twice? Oh, God, but wouldn’t that be nice. / To be practical in the age of the digital… / Love? Life? Either could be swept into the ether… / Maybe we’ll find it isn’t all on the line; / it’s lodged in the savings or been lost in the cravings of a throbbing life-line. / Want you by my midnight side… for another nighttime ride… / Hide behind your morals, and there’s a cost. If you’ve never seen it, it’s your loss. / So, take my 2am side… for another nighttime ride… / to keep from wonderin’ if we’re alive. / I’ll do just about anything for you / to catch you comin’ my way. / Stand in line, but if you catch yourself in time, / we’ll break monotony with temporary monogamy… / Stand-in for love… / Stand up for love…
“Muscle Memory” (C. Moore)
I don’t know how to say no when I don’t wanna go, / but staying here, sat, and only went where my fingers know. / It’s getting softer hearing echoes of the dreams I once had fade, / feeling for the grip so I can take over the reigns of this mess I’ve made… / I can see you try, / but all you ever do is justify. / I’m never gonna let you know when you don’t want to know. / You’re paid to lead, so tighten up that leash or just let me go… / I’m growing weaker watching outlines of ideas I once had burn, / rising from the flames just to crumble into names I can’t discern. / I can see you fake it. / Just before you fold and flake out. / In my life, I’ve written a lot of words. / In my life, I’ve seen many twisted and absurd. / Don’t ask me how (reading my thoughts that you conferred); / It’s over now, if you allow it to be heard… It’s over now! / I can see you fade out. / For so long, I’ve been a shade now… / We’ve never known how to say yes ‘cause, at the best, it’s a guess. / Meanwhile, turnstile, single file, someone else is stepping out of line… / It’s getting tired, hearing sound bytes of the pricks we’ve long surpassed / given banner fame, asked to autograph a name, won’t matter if they last! / Don’t you ever wonder if your vision’s like the thunder: it rolls out too late? / You can dine her, you can dance her, baby, this ain’t call and answer: don’t you rest on fate! / It’s getting softer hearing echoes of the dreams I once had fade, / Feeling for the grip so I can take over the reigns of this mess I’ve made… It’s getting softer hearing echoes of the dreams I once had fade…
“Relief” (C. Moore)
I heard you say, “A bed and breakfast price for a chance to live life twice.” / Here and back, there and here, smile as you go and then… / Is there any difference? / Is there any reason to relate/renege? / Really, it’s the off-chance / that what I find there is relief. / Long sighs splashed across the page, canvas stretched out to express; / where once we fumbled, splayed out song, we mumble, chant along… / This, devoid of substance / once “Go long!” becomes “Go along.” / Honestly an off-chance / that most believe it’s worth the grief. / A turn’s a turn, so learn to learn; / don’t get caught up, so concerned. / A turn’s a turn, I’ve learned to learn / this life’s one long series of turns… / We always return… return. / I heard myself say, “Cross your t’s, dot your i’s, or otherwise…” / Can’t believe my eyes, surprised, to realize I’ve vaporized. / When did I deem living damned, and push and pull, deposit, plan? / It makes no sense, fearing happenstance, fearing losing worshipped chance. / Is there any reason? / If there’s none, we trudge along. / Unseeing, upsetting balance / of past and present purpose. / I heard you say, “A bed and breakfast price for a chance to live life twice.” / In old skin trying, tanned and tamed, to dodge the brand, to banish blame.
“Braver (I Hardly Know Her)” (C. Moore)
Braver than anyone I know… / Braver for getting out of the show… / And no one will ever let you grow / if you don’t go… / Lover, you’re one with my life; / hater of any and all my strife. / How could I ever let you go? / Better let you know… / Warrior again and again and again; / truer to me than any Eumaios could do. / Your vows and changes put you through / your paces (stayed true). / Wingman beyond the realm of the seen, / all that was before us to dream upon the screen. / And, now that the dreaming’s almost through, / few memories are as important to me as the ones with you. / All these expound upon my mind: / every inside joke and slanted rhyme, / and I will never let them go… / and no one needs to know for it to be so…