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Passport (2007)

by owenshire

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1.
Read, but don’t explain. Seek to understate. Work your brain to store Now use it; that is what it’s for. I saw the arrow put down. I saw the scarecrows astound Look to North when not in sight Tie the knot until it’s tight Step into the river twice Redefine this debated life. I saw arteries blocked I saw the pheasant’s eyeballs pop. The trickle left from the frost Mixes with money the sun has dropped I’m not complacent; I react, I resent This film adjacent to reason, to freedom. I think I missed my calling, it’s the end, it’s the end Of this purposeless falling, I relent, I relent. Sometimes I think I missed my calling Other times I think my calling’s right here It’s time to resist philosophical wanderings And resign myself into a profitable career
2.
As we move From a culture dominated by language to one next door. Where your cues From visual literacies policed, This world of course Provides an alleyway for your tiny eyes That shine so terrible I can’t look away from them They are pendulums. As we were In an alcove hibernated Yet fated, a child we bore These voices blur In a language to be translated Verbatim And taught as lore. I don’t like these mirrors in this funhouse But I can’t resist these hypnotic conveyor belts That move me up Not too fast Towards the mouth That closes shut Behind my back And spits me out Who will choose To be so advantageous And courageous To save us from ourselves As we move From a culture dominated by sadists To…oh do tell? I don’t like these mirrors in this funhouse Yet I can’t resist these hypnotic conveyor belts Hold it up Reflect it back Throw it out. Push me once I hear your laugh Show yourself. So terrible I can’t look away…
3.
Fix yourself in your room, candy-mouth The moon is just a tooth, waiting to fall out Of the sky inside of your head, purple-red, Where we sleep entombed in our beds, like the dead. I want the truth. In silver sounds From lips dark blue Breathing out Hold the candle’s orange flame, it’s a game, That I can’t remember your name. What’s your name? But I love you. In silent clouds Or when your cocoon Emits sounds of…la di da dida dida la-da With your perfume I need no compass There are so few Who speak for all of us. Then in a boat built for two, me and you Will sail away from the bloom of our youth.
4.
I can think. I can feel. I’m alive. I’m extinct. I’ve congealed. I have died. In the ground, under rock, in the ice I will wait, fossilized Until men with covered eyes Brush off fragments of this patient life And collect them in bags tied. I awake to find that I’m in a housecoat all alone. Was I dreaming? Am I whole? I’m on a table, doors are closed. There is no movement in this cold. Convict, then appeal, then deny. I’ve erased, I’ll conceal, I will hide In the ground, under rock, in the ice There’s a race, There’s a hive Of activity in my mind. But the stasis of this patient life Betrays the frenzy in my heart I can’t escape this museum. How can I stay here all alone? Have I matured? Have I grown? They take pictures, then go home. Until one day, I am sold. Then in a crowded cart I ride While the antique sculptures tear my side They are zinc. They are steel. And pyrite. I’m extinct. I’ve congealed. I have died. What is all this light? It is pink. It is teal. Then white. You remade me on your wheel Emblazon with your seal. I’m a fake. I am real. I am signed. I was late. Never here. I’ve arrived. I’ve arrived. I’ve arrived. I’ve arrived.
5.
Out of her car she sung while walking Under her arm she held her portfolio A vender who watched said good luck with applying Then he pushed his cart to the next corner light He took his time Their eyes were mechanical One poor decision was the start of it all She picked up her things and Left repeating under her breath It’s all for the better It’s all for the better It’s all for the better. Out in the yard she jumped while walking It was a sight right out of a rodeo The sun was warm bright but not blinding So she hung her wash up along the line She took her time. Life can be so tangential One imposition marks the start of it all And later she came in Reciting something by Dickinson Right down to the letter Right down to the letter Right down to the letter. Categories are slipping around It is an earthquake of insincerity Killing all that surrounds in this make-shift Design of faults. It’s a blanket of tar Swallowing up the stars But breathe easy The answer is mechanical One more decision is the start of it all While we discard pretense And wade through the missteps There’s no rest. And nothing kept And nothing kept
6.
The who, where, when, and why The silence tight my my Now doesn’t this make things easier When one learns to love oneself? I look at the empty floor As shadows now furnish my home United to make things easier United with my kind It pushes me back, my dear The sight of your love all at once The terror it makes me eager Pretending just like it once was… Until I’m thrown right out of my mind The blues and the greens collect To paint this canvas divine and drip down the rain’s pallet And so I lost my fear of height to make it back to the sun I beg your sincerest pardon I beg your sincerest pun There’s a hole in your life, your eye Down one side profile Cutting back the layers even Counting the days we have left To be anxious. An apple, an onion Always diversify. And too anxious
7.
You and me, we are the “in” the “of” Society’s serving prepositions You and me, we are the down the up Underneath, waiting for all the just This is not our fight These are not our wars These are not our rights This is not our cause This is a place I’ve known before It served me well with much reward You and me, The proletariat The sky, the sea, The air the cliff the dove You and me We are the wound, the blood Carefully Spill in all directions You and me, The proletariat The sky, the sea, These are not our rights These are not our wrongs These are but just words And worth a thousand pictures. This is a place I’ve known before This is a place I once called home You and me You are me Sky the sea These are not our fights But these are now our wars These are but just words And worth 1000 pictures This is a place I’ve known before This is a place with much reward
8.
I feel tense when you are around: A sound-bitten collar; a vampyric clown. I feel tense when you are around in the moonlight. It makes sense when those you surround Shroud your heart with their indigo gowns. It makes sense when those you surround block the sunlight But you’re so obnoxious With your quick synopsis Making thoughts to publish count In this world of noxious Insightful options Pitching words for those without I feel tense when you are around: The fragrant breath of a vampyric clown. I feel tense when you are around in the moonlight. It makes sense when those you surround Marinate their hearts with your balsamic nouns It makes sense when those you surround mock the sunlight But you’re so obnoxious With your careful pauses Which you must indoctrinate In this world of noxious Uninsightful logics Which I can’t articulate Let up. But you’re so obnoxious You’re so synopsis Making thoughts of verbal gout I feel tense when you are around: The pretentious tooth of a vampyric clown. I feel tense when you are around in the moonlight. It makes sense when those you surround Shroud your heart with their indigo gowns It makes sense when those you surround block the sunlight.
9.
He was nothing but a throw back on a razor blade precious not unlike the gold trimming of a picture frame Though it took him no time to apply the lamb’s blood on my door Secretly I did wish that he’d stop and talk until the dawn I want to tell you He was at large I want to tell you That his face broke my heart He was nothing but the pull clip of a hand grenade And the coziness of his last bed it had to be dug by a spade Since he never called me back, I have no choice but to forever mourn Though it took him no time to apply the lamb’s blood on my door I want to tell you He was at large. I want to tell you That his voice broke my heart It broke my heart I’m defeated, I’m defeated.
10.
A frozen ball Dropped at a clip Moved through the clouds Unwanted package Crashed through my roof Fell in my living room I put my feet on it my new ataman These words, they wanted to fly But the birds could only deny. So we’re out of luck The door is stuck Your eyes, they’re so uneven. They’ve lost all there meaning That is the reason For this curtailing I am saving up to buy a satellite dish A ball of shit Dropped from a jet Missed the ocean, its intended target Fell in my house Fell in my living room I set my drink on it And welcomed it in. These words, they wanted to fly But the birds could only deny. So we’re out of luck The door is stuck The signal’s cut It’s so abrupt. Your lies they are, so much uneven They do not bare repeating They’ve lost much of their meaning And your eyes, they’ve lost all their feeling They now share in your treason A look not worth redeeming I am saving up to buy a discount chain of motels in hell.
11.
Our love's like a brick or air that's grown too thick Constricting, constricted Traded all our dead I gave oral sex as you're instructing Instructed I just nod my head All this embarrassment of which you were The heiress bent on greed Who cares if you succeed? This simple ultimatum The coming of the end And all that this contends Words built brick by brick Held in place by spit The words were red And reddening Traded all our dead The dearly departed and departing Ceremoniously we march off the cliff This discombobulated Feeling that we get Much like old regrets For as the sermons stated This is our Armageddon But it's not permanent As long as we repent hey hey (the clouds are my bricks)
12.
Resilience It's somewhere in me and you. Just a little bit angered Yet this we can resolve.

about

One studio song; the rest live demos. Be patient.

credits

released February 13, 2007

rob, greg, dan.
recorded in kitchener, waterloo in 2007.
download album for full credits.

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Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.

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about

owenshire Ontario

Owenshire was born when Robert Muhlbock bought a bass guitar in 1992 and began recording dozens of bass and vocal demos under that name.

Two albums, numerous "live demos," one too-long hiatus and (most importantly) one bass distortion pedal later, Muhlbock continues to release riff-based alt. rock, scattered with lush harmonies and dotted with cryptic and/or disillusioned lyrics.
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