1. |
Violet / Green
05:32
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You know Violet with that golden hair, she's a friend of mine
She's alive when she breathes fresh air, she dances all the time
You know Violet don't like sugar, yeah she don't like red wine
She don't like red wine.
Violet's gone wicked; Violet's been kicking up the leaves;
Darling, it's autumn in Melbourne, Violet's gone.
/
Lately, there must be something in the water
I know, because it's been different towards you
Get out of the house man, if it don't feel right
There must be demons or something, because I'm scared shitless at night
In the end I see everything in green, you know what I mean,
Close my eyes, close my eyes and I'll colour it in, I'll colour it in.
Hold up, there's a gun still smoking
Don't lock and load, because you're not angry and I'm choking
Here we go now, I'd like to tell you all about it
Whistle blows, we can just forget about this
In the end I see everything in green, you know what I mean,
Close my eyes, close my eyes and I'll colour it in, I'll colour it in.
In the end I see everything in green, you know what I mean,
Close my eyes, close my eyes and I'll colour it in, I'll colour it in.
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2. |
The Artist
04:36
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You’re just as crazy as me, you don’t want that.
It’s time to stop your rambling before you can’t go back.
And time to you means nothing, and that’s a fact.
You gave me no warning so I can not react.
And all that I have said in jest, you know, the pale beating drum;
This rusted cage within my chest, you know the best is yet to come.
I paint a war, and I won.
I’m no artist, but I can act like one.
It’s going to burn and I can’t say why,
You lost momentum thirteen hundred miles high.
It’s misdirection, you’re stalling time.
You’ve done the test and, darling, I’ve done mine.
And all that I have said in jest, you know, the pale beating drum;
This rusted cage within my chest, you know the best is yet to come.
I paint a war, and I won.
I’m no artist, but I can act like one.
Can you move your hips with mine?
Slowly dancing; keeping time;
I catch my breath so I’m alright, I catch my breath...
And all that I have said in jest, you know, the pale beating drum;
This rusted cage within my chest, you know the best is yet to come.
I paint a war, and I won.
I’m no artist, but I can act like one.
Grow a heart, a beating drum;
I can’t replicate it, but you can have this one.
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3. |
What We Mean
03:08
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I don't do things I regret, I just say things I wish you'd forget.
I tend to show my hand in time, that's a tendency I'll call mine.
Tug on this string, I'll throw the line - pull me into this pantomime... Heading to Sydney road to catch a show, drink a larger I pretend I know.
Look at this painting, tell me what you see: two dead eyes staring back at me. How’s it you see things they don’t mean? In a greyscale, you see opaline. Step on the train, I'm heading East, holding on to find that piece.
Solace in company there below: rapid fire / even flow.
How come we never say what we mean?
I never say what you do for me.
How come we never say what we mean?
How come we never say anything?
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4. |
The Space Between
04:23
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Freedom of an open highway, trapped behind a windshield.
Pray the wind brings something my way before my head decides to yield.
Well I knew the storm was coming, for I saw it from the North.
Well before the winds started changing, my young hands were aging and I forgot all that you were worth.
So tie my tongue as I falter; don’t let me speak out of turn.
I will crawl towards the fucking alter just to pray for your return.
Now I’m stuck here in this tower, and every time the sky turns grey,
I turn weaker and I cower, I’ve no power and I just hide away for days.
I can see it all here now the sky returns to blue,
Now with the space between, I don’t know what it means,
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
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5. |
Faded Paint
04:36
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Cigarettes don't do no good, except kill the nerves and kill my lungs;
How could I ever love the thing that ends up hurting everyone?
What I need's sobriety, but I've always lacked the self-restraint;
So pick an expression out of a jar and wear it like some faded paint.
I will never forget what my father said,
'Always quit while you're ahead,
Don't let you work yourself dead.'
Another year flies past us just with breaking minds and broken chords;
A little help in the face of it all is what I find, but could never afford.
So lay it on me like some charity - your shoulder and my synthetic breath;
You lit the lamp long before I'd awoken from my pathetic rest.
I will never forget the words you said,
'How could you ever quit when you've got so much left?
I wont let you work yourself dead.'
Ah man, this is just what I need
Listen out and let me breathe
And I swear man, you'll be proud of me
I've got a plan now you'll see.
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6. |
Pigment
03:18
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There's a certain beauty to sadness, the way it turns everything into a warmer state of blue.
I admire as I walk the badlands, but Utah's seeming just about as close as you.
I want to express my pigment without your rapidly increasing guilt sinking through you like a stone.
Just imagine all that I could bring, and give, and do.
And they won't forget you, you'd never let them, but I do hate to drop it.
I'm thinking it's coarsened, and in my isolation, I can't figure how to stop it.
There's a new aroma in my room; like a hallucinogen, I'm holding air.
Can I be the one that you talk to? I find comfort just in being there. Omission never suited my figure; I'll practice distance in the face of you.
I'm telling you you're making me happy, think of all I can give and do.
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7. |
Picturesque
03:00
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I guess it’s picturesque when you’re stuck indoors,
I get to the street, see nothing but dead meat walking around in bodies that they’ve named,
It’s such a shame that nothing seems to change.
I thought by now there’d be enough around to keep me quiet for the rest of my days.
I think it’s just the same shit that’s been plaguing my brain since puberty hit.
Man, I think it sucks how we never address what leads to this rut that leaves us so upset,
I’m getting better at taking half the blame, I think it’s funny you never do the same.
I’m so lost at what I am to do, you’re getting shitty when I talk to you.
I can’t say it to your face, so I put it in a song.
I haven’t felt this weak in so long.
It could take me all night to paint the sky, you’d still find a way to make me feel I didn’t try.
Bridges burning, heads are turning, you say: ‘I’m fine.’
And I know that trick.
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8. |
Three Months
05:45
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Well, you wouldn't say it now, but I know that you used to think I was cool;
But then I went and packed my bags and moved away from home, and from you.
You wouldn't say it now, but I know that you used to believe that I was strong;
But I reckon if we wrestled now like we used to, you'd probably break my arm.
You know it's three months till you get to see my face, so maybe for three days we can share this space.
You know I would do anything to keep your heart from growing cold.
Somebody like me left you all alone.
Mum said something about you giving up on drums, and I'm sorry if I made them push you to give music a run.
But I'm learning how to throw a ball so we can reconnect on something you like,
So in a few months, when I'm back, we can go to the park and you can tell me about your life.
Like you can anytime.
You know it's three months till you get to see my face, so maybe for three days we can share this space.
You know I would do anything to keep your heart from growing cold.
Trust somebody like me, who left you on your own.
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Jackson Howard Canberra, Australia
Jackson is most often writing and performing on Ngunnawal and Ngambri land.
Constantly learning from time, songs and stories.
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