1. |
Watch TV
04:25
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Get home, sit down, watch TV until you fall asleep;
after work, once you've paid all your bills.
'Cause internet's as good as life: it shows you parts,
and electricity fuels your choice of dreams.
Selections on a screen: who you want to be tonight.
Get up and wake up on your feet; once you've brushed your teeth.
It's another day: go and make ends meet.
You're in your car, play NPR. Explain it all while Marketplace is a few bars to lead, a soundbite of need. 'Cause while the GDP seems so high,
the story goes:
"Why can't I ever seem to get ahead?
A fixed rate APR?
How else do I grow into debt while student loans and credit cards all seem to come due
the same time as new ways to live?"
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2. |
I
02:05
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3. |
Broken Home
03:34
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I saw the coffee stain against the wall,
ceramic littering the ground.
They both turned to see me
after they'd been screaming.
Explicably, the next day, he was gone.
But this ain't no broken family.
Not three shattered souls.
Just 'cause he's not here doesn't mean we're left alone.
No, this ain't a broken home.
After that I fought a lot with Mom,
but your daughter tried to make us stop.
She'd yell "that's enough" and Mom'd retire to her room
and I stole a pack of Camels and lit off.
Everybody knew you got religion.
We came to visit you at a church.
And while people on an alter knelt, screaming, speaking tongues,
we left your exorcism.
While you say "Oh My God"
He still won't be there.
While you say "Oh My God"
I hear the way
that you say "I wish you luck"
and think of failure.
Maybe if I lose as much, I might feel the same.
Some nights I'd help cook family dinner:
Mom was working late behind a bar.
One night my friends came over and I got handcuffed to the floor
by this local cop who figured he'd take charge.
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4. |
I Know
02:38
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Hey son, could you please just call me back?
It's important, I need to talk to you.
'Cause I've just been kicked out of our house and I'm a little drunk:
can you pick me up?
'Cause you know, don't you? That your mother, oh, she drinks too.
Yeah, we both hid the truth when unfaithful was too big a word for you.
Hey son, have you learned to say this back:
"Oh I miss you, think we should talk soon?"
Or, to pull from your eye a convenient tear
at a funeral mass, in a wake line?
Still, it's hard to see if there was any other choice for me.
Yes I know, in this tree it's hard to feel any kind of fleeting empathy.
And I'm sorry that you don't,
and I sure know you won't, once you've grown up.
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5. |
Not Too Late
02:08
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Mom can we stay home? Order take out?
Maybe talk about what's going on?
'Cause it's been a while, and no one's saying it's your fault:
no blame to bear for him being gone.
And you don't have to sneak around.
No one's gonna be surprised,
'cause once he left and came right back, but that's not how it's gonna shake out
this time.
'Cause it's not too late now:
you're in your thirties.
And it's okay to want, to not be alone.
And it's not all past now:
it wasn't your choice. Please you don't have to be on your own.
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6. |
II
01:09
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7. |
This Help We Gave
03:38
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Kenny was born by a trailer. To a rotating cast of kids and caretakers.
A place where parents lost a son,
once justice was done.
The court said: "That's enough."
They'd pack him up: let him out on loan to a similar town, different mobile home.
And if he was making friends at school,
in his kindergarten room,
his teachers said: "That's enough."
He couldn't get much farther,
with all this help we gave:
debating his public mouth and digging his public grave.
Kenny's aunt didn't know basic math, while her family's name made her teachers laugh.
She dropped out in-between
adulthood and sixteen.
Her parents said: "That's enough."
She couldn't know how to talk to him, and while regressing to corporal punishment
he died in a ditch.
The judge said "jail this witch"
and we all said: "That's enough."
And she couldn't get much farther,
with all this help we gave:
debating a public mouth and digging a public grave.
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8. |
III
01:29
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9. |
Wake Up
03:55
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Wake up, my dear: we’re very nearly there.
We took off at noon. Now it’s two hours later.
We’re heading out west, to the last place we met
as lovers, alone, in a lakeside sunset.
Did you lose everything just so we'd be together?
Make up for lost time: the three years it took to get here.
"It was on my way home," was the half-truth I told
to the beautiful face who happened to be alone.
It was cold at night: mid-May Upstate.
You took my sweater, and I cried when I left you so late.
But on my way back I knew I couldn’t fall asleep
on this drive of a hundred miles: a parallel street.
So, wake up my dear, we’re on our way home!
We're done with this road. We've traveled too many miles alone.
Now we live in the East, in a house that's all ours
and we’ve made it our own, with pictures on the walls.
So let’s go to sleep and lay in each other’s arms.
Let’s go to sleep and lay in each other’s arms.
Well, wake up my dear! We’re on our way home.
We took off at noon, now it’s two hours later.
And it’s still daylight so let’s go for a walk:
bring the dog to the park up the block
Let's go to sleep and grow old together.
Let’s go to sleep and lay in each other’s arms.
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Chris Gockley Albany, New York
Chris Gockley is an acoustic singer-songwriter from upstate New York. His debut record is a sparse arrangement of guitar and vocals.
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