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lyrics

Proximity scams
unappeal to the masses
with thier cheap black eyelashes
they can't see for the real

the discouraging view
through my window shutters
I shake and I stutter
trying not to reveal

That this company sweet
babe, its bought and its paid for
we're not sure what we're there for
but one fine day we could leave

All we need is a bucket of ice
Louis Armstrong on vynil sounds nice
We could dance here and pretend that life
is the one in our dreams

I've been turning up leaves
haven't found any new ones
just the old torn up bruised ones
of last years make believe

and this picture of me
made of various plastics
and all that radio static
floating in the pop sea

I wrote 3 songs this week
think i'll write 25 more
pull the scabs off the old sores
and onto paper they'll bleed

And this leaky rowboat that we've got
we'll pull anchor and sail off thier yacht
all we need is one of my dumb songs
to hit the pop sea

I'll fix all of the holes you will see
we'll sail out of this ocean of greed
i'll make art that will satisfy me
not to hit the pop sea

I'll fix all of the holes you will see
we'll sail out of this ocean of greed
i'll make art
it will satisfy me
not to hit the pop sea
not to hit the pop sea
I won't hit the pop sea
and it will satisfy me
not to hit the pop sea

credits

from An ARTic Circle, released September 2, 2008

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Bret Alain Phillips/Oldman Winter Lamy, New Mexico

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