1. |
Herstory
00:19
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and I am weak in my leaving...
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2. |
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I don't know where I'm wondering from or wandering to,
but i know my shoes are tied and i can't stop listening to the blues.
My heart’s been broke twice too many times for just one year
if i weren't just so tired I'd bury my nostalgia with my fears.
I'll pack up my pride and drive away from here
I'll drive until your music can't reach my ears
I'll drive till the sunrises on a new year
Growing up and growing old are two of the saddest stories told,
At least for me it meant learning how to have someone you just can't hold
So I'll build dreams in my mind where I was never a fool.
I'll drive to the ending and back if it's an adventure that let's me forget you
Get your heart real broke, art becomes a life line not just a joke
If you planted your roots deep, cut them free and find your feet
Don’t stop running till you hit the sun, breathe real deep your life’s just begun
Wander far and wander tall, the great thing about hearts is they’ll take you anywhere at all
As a child, I'd give away my happiness to soothe another’s pain,
Well I grew the hell up and I realized that's insane,
You'll meet friends and you'll meet fools, there's only one difference between the two.
One will love, and the other will take advantage of you
So drive, quickly and drive far because friends are always there
And the sooner you grow up, the sooner you start to truly care.
Your heart's broke-- it just means that life ain't fair
You aren't broke, you aren't stuck-- you're just ready to go and you don't know where.
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3. |
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Spring drips lacquer-like kisses on my flower beds and waters my eyes. I grow seeds the color of violets and iris and they blossom forth into trees sturdy enough to hammock your heart.
I remember you crying at 4am on a dark rooftop.
I remember you climbing down and letting me know you were actually afraid of heights.
I think the roguish boy inside you has a heart like a hummingbird's
-- and the man who hurls these awful words at noon and slips moonshine in his coffee has a heart of ironwood.
It is sturdy and burns for a longtime.
Springtime drips rain onto my eyelids and my hair grows long, lank, and greasy. I am part mud and part dust motes. The hair from my armpits grows down to my hips and coils around me, hugging me close. I am part woman and part earth. Between the cracks in my fragile love ferns spring up like dandelion weeds and plant their roots deeper than quack grass.
I am empathy, and I am a tree strong enough to hammock the heaviest of hearts.
I like the taste of cold coffee when you can see your breath at 5am because it makes me think of you. I like the smell of grass growing and running into lakes because it sounds simple. I love you with a deepness and a purpose. I love you like a river before a mountain. I'll lay at your feet and complete your painting. I'll sip your moonshine and cull your crying. I'll slip your moonshine and call out, "you're trying!"
I am a flower bed tilled deep enough to plant in but shallow enough to not hold sturdy trees. And when a seed of that kind plants itself I find the roots cracking through and around me. Crashing and twisting through my hair and into my brain. I try to coddle myself and wrap my arms around mine and your misery. I let the rain seep in and drown the flowers I have tried to grow. I am a failing and flailing garden whose worth you couldn't sow. I am plucking the harvest in autumn and drinking coffee to relax. I am planting tulips in hopes that next year-- I'll be strong enough to last.
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4. |
Moving North-East
03:14
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I'm sorry there's not much to say
It's 4:30 in the morning and this doesn't feel okay.
The sun rises and it's all the same
I'm east and you're south and this doesn't feel okay
I'm sorry I left and said goodbye
It might have been better if i didnt leave on a lie
The sun sets and it's all the same
I'm east and you're south and this doesn't feel okay
I'm trying to let go of this
But I'm spendin' my dreams on your kiss
And I don't have many tokens left
And it's been at least a month since I slept
It's 5 in the morning and I'm crying on my floor
I wish you'd heard when I was knockin' at your door.
I'm writing again and things are simpler now
But babe I love you and I don't know how.
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5. |
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We will meet her in the park
She’ll bring the vodka we’ll bring the dark
We don’t sleep before midnight anymore
We don’t even wake up till after four
She can’t sleep sober or at night
She’s got too many demons to fight
With them in her bed, and him in her head
She’s gotten so sad since the leaves turned red
She says, “September means remembering again.
So I drink straight vodka till I think I have friends.”
Where’d your friends go I just want to know,
Did you not trust them or were they scared of your snow?
Men have left her cut and dried
Too blinded to see her desperate side
She’s so scared of being alone
It wouldn’t have killed you to call her your home
So we will meet her in the bar
She can’t drink vodka because of her scars
Dollar drinks and mint flavoured gum
She told me she swapped her heart out to have more fun.
We’ll all catch up but it’s getting old
She just throws up from all the lies that she’s told
I just hate to see her this way--
I’d give her my liver but a new heart would ease her pain
Is it more fun now you’re 21?
Is it more fun now you’re 21?
Is it more fun now you’re 21?
You let yourself die before you’d even begun
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6. |
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I hoped I could be someone to you,
but things ain't so different these days
it ain't like I'm in love with you
I thought you'd grown thought you took your time,
to sort out the plagues on your mind,
but you never will and I guess that's fine,
it ain't like I'm in love with you.
Wine stained teeth and pretty skirts,
lift your eyes and I'll do a twirl,
it ain't like I'm in love with you.
Trodding through and following you--
I guess there's things I'd dare to do.
Ask me to stay and I'll take two,
it ain't like I'm in love with you.
I'll rock away the years til I'm eighty-four,
ain't got a lot left 'cept to mourn.
I'll forget trying and I'll dream good-byes,
it ain't like I'm in love with you.
Well you've got you, and I've got me.
I guess some truths are too plain to see--
Love never had to be your enemy,
Thank god I'm not in love with you.
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7. |
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I've seen you be 100 different girls before your 17th,
And it's hard to believe when you're wearin' lies on your sleeve.
It's hard to believe. I guess a couple of those girls meant something to me. I guess a couple of those girls meant something to me.
And the singer's singing a song about loving those girls that I know,
and I guess that's makin' me feel alone.
But that's the thing about being back home, and boy am I glad to go. I was so glad to leave that road.
I've seen you be 100 different boys before you were 23,
you spend too much time together to see the irony.
I only fall for people I can't fix, and I don't mean there's something wrong with you, but I've been in love with you since I was 17,
you were the sun and moon to me, and I've been in love with you since I was 17.
I hate the people I've seen you be,
and I hate the people you've meant to me.
I hate the electric city and what it's done to me.
This one's for you so I hope you're listening.
This one's for you so please stop pretending.
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8. |
Herstory repeats itself
01:22
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How am I gonna fall in love again?
It ain't like I haven't before.
I know what I'm in for and I know what I'll do--
I'll sit real pretty and hand my life over to you.
Over to you.
I am weak in most things. I am feeling through most things.
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Luella and the Ladybug Halifax, Nova Scotia
Kirsten Luella Bruce is from worst-case Ontario and making her home in Halifax. She writes songs and poetry of her heart.
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