1. |
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So sure your flame would rise,
you spoke to me in charcoal only,
We wasted our time, unaware.
Then you realized the fire’s burning over there.
Not inside, yeah.
It was something that I didn’t have to say.
Oh no.
It was something that was plain as day.
So sure your flame would rise higher,
you actually realized the fire’s burning over there.
Not inside, yeah.
It was a tired tired game to play.
It was something I didn’t have to say.
You wanted to start a fire the color of your hair,
then you looked around to see
the fire’s burning over there.
Not inside, yeah.
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2. |
It's Not Bad
03:51
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When I think of the sorrow I think I’ve had,
It’s really nothing, and of that I’m glad.
Nothing compared to the man on the run,
nothing compared with everyone.
I’m not saved, but I think I’m safe.
But each time I sit down and weep at my incomplete faith,
it gives me a headache.
Gives me a headache, gives me a heartache,
gives me a neck ache, gives me a mind ache.
And sometimes I feel so sad,
but it’s not bad.
When I think of all the good I could’ve done,
when I think of the gauntlets I could’ve run,
I’m a prodigal son, I’m no one.
But no matter who or what I appear to be,
there’s sadness coming up, much in store for me.
And it gives me a headache, gives me a heartache,
gives me a neck ache, gives me a mind ache.
And sometimes I feel so sad,
but it’s not bad.
The bad does not exist within yourself, just in selfish things you do.
But I want to learn from those things, really I do.
Got to learn from those tears, got to not run away,
when I think of tomorrow, when I think of today.
When I think of the sorrows I think I’ve had,
It’s really nothing, and of that I’m glad.
Nothing compared to one who’s never tried
to cry the tears they could never cry.
And I’m glad, I'm glad, glad.
So glad it gives me a headache, gives me a heartache,
gives me a neck ache, gives me a mind ache.
And sometimes I feel so sad
but it’s not bad.
Not bad
Not bad
Not bad
Not bad
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3. |
Jack-in-the-box Music
02:10
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4. |
I Have to Have My Singer
03:38
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I have to have my singer
who sings about love,
when there’s no time to suffer, yeah.
The whole day is enough.
Fashion so wild, I have to have my share.
Like I'm nobody’s child, revelation’s in the air.
Well I’m going out tonight and staying,
sky fairly heavily raining.
On a bridge above a river,
I have to have my dream.
I’m happy to be sinister,
drunk along the beam.
Well I have to have a singer
who is lonely and mean.
I have to have my singer.
I have to have my rock.
You said you don't believe in miracles,
you were one to talk.
I need to hear my inspirational figure
in this time-block.
I need to hear my inspirational figure
in this time-block.
I need to hear my inspirational figure
in this time-block.
I need to hear my inspirational figure
in this time-block. . .
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5. |
Shade of Your Eyes
03:09
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Trying to name the shade of your eyes,
when a whole parade of desires got me hypnotized.
Were they hazel like a cocoa pool?
No, and I’d rather have you, you fool.
Or were they blue like a Mississippi cruise?
Yeah, but I’d rather have you than all the blues.
Still now they might be green
like all the pictures of the Amazon I’ve seen.
You see what I mean?
What’s this? The light is turning.
Now I can see every color,
even new ones my eyes are learning.
Now I’ve seen the truth.
And I really don’t have you.
Trying to name the shade of your eyes,
when a whole parade of desires got me hypnotized.
Then I realized that I don’t have you,
but I love you.
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6. |
Supreme Vision
04:41
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Too much debate trying to stabilize
the things that will change anyway,
at their own rate, in their own time.
In their own way, no matter what we say.
So I really think it’s wise
to abandon the house of time,
move into the trailer of fate.
And it’s good to make peace
with the seat of decisions,
supreme vision, checkmate.
Living without some kind of preview,
I was somewhat unconscious
that all eyes would receive you,
and they will
over millions of lives,
when individual sight arrives,
in due time.
So I really think it’s wise
to abandon the cathedral of time.
Move into the trailer of fate.
And it’s good to make peace
with the seat of decisions,
supreme vision, checkmate.
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7. |
Cooling Down
03:30
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I could pull my weight in a lonely crowd.
My obligations are my saving grace,
something cool to drink in the saddle.
But can I smile?
It seems that it’s not allowed.
It’s nothing fake, since faking’s not my battle.
Once in ten years,
we can drop through the clouds,
delirious, only to walk away and function.
Saying this here now
is just like cooling down
from the hot day of pride and assumptions.
I landed here,
I turned around.
I’m cooling down.
Sure I’ve made mistakes,
I’ve had fantasies.
But what revisions can I make?
What can you ask of me?
Some decisions can’t be based
on ancient history.
But will you let me go out to my quiet place?
Walking in the snow with myself to face.
Once in my mind,
we could drop through the clouds,
sun and fire in our heart.
Singing this here now
is just like cooling down
from the heat that tears us apart.
I landed here,
I turned around.
I’m cooling down.
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8. |
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9. |
An Odd World
04:30
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I am frozen when I am free
I am worried when I am me
I burn up when passion hits
I go into a thousand bits
And in the mean time
the pale blue face,
the gray face of all
is painted to prove
an odd world can’t be wrong.
I lose voice when overjoyed
and I rejoice when I’m annoyed
I invoke the purest verse
that a poet wrote while poor as dirt.
And in the mean time
the pale blue face,
the gray face of all
is painted to prove
an odd world can’t be wrong.
So you follow me
and I’ll follow you
and not a single thing we do
is black and white
but all a palish grayish blue
That’s the spell we’re under
by one the color of thunder.
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10. |
Seasons Internal
04:59
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I am experiencing the life.
My nearness to a season allows it.
When my mouth speaks, there are winter clouds.
So be it, what’s right is right.
How can I can go through a season without you?
How can I get to the season inside of me,
even if it’s not the season inside of you?
I am not currently riding a storm
and I could not earnestly lie on a form.
Won't find a form of release that I have to lease.
I’m unborn, yet unborn.
We go to the seashore,
and we go to the seashore bumbling.
Quarter of a year too late.
But how do you know it when winter starts?
The temperature in my heart. (Low)
But that bitterness is set to wane
by a seasonal change,
a snail on the celestial scale of grace.
Unsung chorus: "Ice, snow, rain. . ."
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Julian Cartwright New Jersey
Julian Cartwright is a songwriter, instrumentalist, composer and arranger based in the Philadelphia area. Instagram @julian.cartwright.songs
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