1. |
The Right Machine
04:05
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Mostly vapid, mostly dead.
The people here are numb.
No sleep. Rapid, dose me red ones.
Steeple, here I come.
Always wasted, always on the run.
Almost chased it, almost was the one.
Nations have their patriots.
Invasions have their Hadrians in stone.
My only monument was you.
Gods have Jobs and Constantines and
doctrines have their prosodies in prose.
My only miracle was you.
He was just a boy, but it
destroyed him to believe in...
Mostly pious, mostly bred
to be the better son.
Moseley's scions own these. Rent one.
The people here are fun.
Nations have their patriots.
Invasions have their Hadrians in stone.
My only monument was you.
Gods have Jobs and Constantines and
doctrines have their prosodies in prose.
My only miracle was you.
He was just a boy, but it
destroyed him to believe in...
sights unseen.
Always wanted, always under guns.
Almost chased it, almost was the one.
The right machine.
But you don't remember prophets past.
And you won't be tender when I ask.
And you won't surrender when I task
the right machine.
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2. |
Jubilee
03:58
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Comin' up second to my ghost.
He's callin' my name, so I riposte.
Have you ever seen yourself so pale before?
Does it always seem to let you down?
Doesn't it show it's more than you know?
More than you'd ever try?
Jubilee. Jubilee.
Do you believe? Do you believe?
Am I free? Am I free?
Jubilee. Jubilee.
Every day doubtful of my heart.
Is it a specter, or my art?
Do you ever see me in your photographs?
Can you ever feel I'm not there?
Doesn't it show it's more than you know?
More than you'd ever try?
Jubilee. Jubilee.
Do you believe? Do you believe?
Am I free? Am I free?
Jubilee. Jubilee.
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3. |
Ontario
03:49
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Two years have passed and not street lamp's been replaced.
She said we need to talk, to come up to her place.
And at the border they could see it in my face.
There are just certain things a man cannot erase.
When I first crossed the line to Windsor and to you,
they took me back to their interrogation room.
They said it looked like I might overstay my due.
I never dreamed I'd have that scarlet mark removed.
Well I held my head to the sky,
and I said my final goodbye.
And that bridge, ungodly waste of blue,
ambassador to you.
'Cause this'll be the last time that
I set foot in Ontario. O Canada.
I'd driven back that hour a thousand nights before.
I'd never seen my future seem so damn unsure.
Red letters loomed above the Hotel Yorba doors.
I set fire to my passport on the floor.
Well I held my head to the sky,
and I said my final goodbye.
And that bridge, ungodly waste of blue,
ambassador to you.
'Cause this'll be the last time that
I set foot in Ontario, Canadia.
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4. |
Science
04:03
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I pray to science that the final dying relays and sparks
of your dark, deceitful mind
simulate an afterlife defined by torment and strife
worse than any Bible lines.
I pray to science that experiments discover in truth
that when hos and liars die,
that they suffer the fate of Deuteronomy 28,
verses 15 through 69.
I pray to science,
'cause I can't pray to anything else,
'cause if god hasn't listened til now,
then what are the odds there's a hell
for you to burn in dear,
for you to burn in dear,
for you to burn in dear, for me?
I pray to science that as a withered, rotten hag of a girl
with no children teeth or hair,
that the cobwebs and cocoons around your atrophied heart
fall away. Maybe then you'll care.
I pray to science that Moroccan rocket scientists find
that bad boys and girls like you
suffer punishments worse than the stuff they can find
in the Surat al-'Ankabut.
I pray to science,
'cause I can't pray to anything else,
'cause if god hasn't listened til now,
then what are the chances in hell
that you'll be burnin' dear,
burnin' for lyin' dear,
burnin' for cheatin' dear, on me?
Someone told me when you die a chemical is released
that makes you think your final instant lasts for centuries.
But even with a million virgins, I'd skip paradise
for approximate eternity with you still by my side.
I pray to science for the women who've devoured the hearts
of devoted men like me,
'cause the bitter crimson of those bloody body parts
will forever stain their teeth.
And if Science deigns to grant me one last line in this song
that I wrote about despair,
on the off chance that my supplications find the right ears,
let my dear, still let my dear be spared.
I pray to science,
'cause I can't pray to anything else,
'cause if god hasn't listened til now,
then how will I find you in hell,
find you to see you dear,
find you to call you deer,
find you to tell you dear, the truth?
That I still need you dear,
that I still want you dear,
that I still love you dear, even down here.
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5. |
Mental Health
04:36
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I'll remember, I'll remember.
I swear I'll remember your face this time,
but I can never seem
to form the lines of you in my mind.
Only darkness, darkness
when I shut my eyes to the world.
Shut out all the problems
that I once thought
that I'd solve in time, only lies
that I told myself,
these grand delusions to maintain mental health, mental health.
But I promised, I promised,
I promised to myself that
I'll remember, I'll remember.
I swear I'll remember the man
that I ought to be, so flatter me.
Tell me that I'm everything.
We all want to listen.
We all want to feel like we are needed,
kneaded like dough on a cold cutting board,
formed to pieces.
As much as we'd like to think we're unique,
we see now the mold that shapes our physique.
And when we peek,
does it all go downhill
faster and faster?
I'll remember, I'll remember.
I swear I'll remember the reason that I promised you that
I'll remember, I'll remember.
I know I'll remember the reason that I can't see your face anymore.
I'll remember, I'll remember.
Lord have mercy, I'll remember.
I can't see your face.
And I can't your face anymore.
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6. |
Alas, Posterity
04:20
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Alas, posterity.
Alack, such sincerity.
I lay my white crown round.
I load it down.
High school papers' honorific, Acrobatic headlines.
Long lost 5k charities and small town race times.
The animated remnants of a life before I knew you,
and you were mine.
Alas, posterity.
Alack, such sincerity.
We lay white arrows 'round.
We load it down.
Stillborn eloquence and evidence of European tours.
Still-resolving photos close enough to see your pores.
The annotated remnants of a life I lived behind you,
when I was yours.
Once, all alone in a red October,
wound down vainglorious in clover.
Frowns found under words of a Turk in Dover,
now lines you'd hide web-woven over.
But unsung liturgies, obituaries written to the sun.
Inundated pages old enough to make you young.
Commemorate the remnants of a life in twenty-aught-few,
when we were one.
Alas, posterity.
Alack, such sincerity.
You laid your white brow round,
and now,
and now, I load it down.
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Oust Washington, D.C.
Indie folk -- some electricity added.
Yours, from our nation's capital.
Oust recommends:
The Seasons EPs Vol. 1: Winter Blitz
by Coed Pageant
Raw, tense, and intensely pretty, the first of Coed Pageant's four Seasons EPs is as cold as the months it's named for, but leaves your ears warm with melancholy. The sound of winter in the midwest.
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Slush is a collage of gorgeous contrasts: electric riffs waver over the polished vocal surface; harmonies whisper under crashing metal. Big Hush sings sympathy to a city changing under its own feet.
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If I don't come home you'll know I'm gone.
by The Wooden Sky
This heavy 2009 album from The Wooden Sky is as lyrically full as it is atmospheric. Delicate harmonies and careful synth hold together a web of everything rustic and wise. Listen closely.
go to albumIf you like Oust, you may also like:
If you have a fondness for expertly wrought roots-rock with sharp lyrics and aching vocals, look no further—“Strangers” is for you.
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Here in the Pitch
by Jessica Pratt
On her fourth album, Jessica Pratt blends up 60s pop and bossa nova into a spooky mix of soft psychedelia.
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The latest from Jessica Pratt retains the sense of mystery that characterized her previous albums, adding expansive arrangements.
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