Bright Eyes lyrics
Album: Lifted or the Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground 
There is no beginning to the story. A bookshelf sinks into the sand
and a language learned and forgot, in turn, is studied once again.
It's a shocking bit of footage viewed from a shitty TV screen.
You can squint through snowy static to make out the meaning.
Just keep on stretching the antennae, hoping that it will come clear.
We need some reception, a higher message, just tell us what to fear.
Because I don't know what tomorrow brings. It is alive with such possibilities.
All I know is I feel better when I sing. Burdens are lifted from me, that is my voice rising!
So Michael, please keep the tape rolling. Boys keep strumming those guitars.
We need a record of our failures. We must document out love.
I have sat too long in my silence. I have grown too old in my pain.
To shed this skin, be born again, it starts with an ending.
So thank you friends for the time we shared. My love stays with you like sunlight and air.
Oh how I truly wish I could keep hanging around here but my joy is covering me.
Soon, I will disappear.
It's not a movie, no private screening. This method acting, well, I call that living.
It's like a fountain, a door has been opened. We have a problem with no solution
but to love and to be loved.
So, I've made peace with the falling leaves. I see their same fate in my own body.
But I won't be afraid when I am awoken from this dream and returned to that
which gave birth to me. And the story goes on and on and on and on...
On a string I was held. The way that I move, can you tell?
My actions are orchestrated from above. So I swing and I sway.
Wave my hand. Kick my leg. And it is always right with the music.
"Until all that swinging starts to make you sick"
For a song I was bought. Now I lie when I talk with a careful eye on the cue card.
Onto a stage, I was pushed with my sorrow well rehearsed.
So give me all your pity and your money. Now.
"We used to think that sound was something pure"
If I could act like this was my real life and not some cage where I've been placed,
then, I could tell you the truth like I used to and not be afraid of sounding fake.
Now all that anyone is listening for are the mistakes.
In a house, by myself, I hear the ice start to melt and watch rooftops weep for the sunlight.
And I know what must change. Fuck my face. Fuck my name.
They are brief and false advertisements for a soul I don't have.
Something true I have lacked and spent my whole life trying to make up for.
But I found in a song and in the people I love. They will lift me up out of darkness.
Now my door stands open. I am inviting everyone in. We will drink.
We will laugh until the morning comes. That is what we are going to do.
|You Will. You?Will. You? Will. You?Will.|
You say that I treat you like a book on a shelf. I don't take you out that often|
because I now that I completed you and that is why you are here.
That is the reason why you stay here. How awful that must feel.
You said you would be my dream. I could have you every night and if, by morning,
I had forgotten you, well, no big deal, it would be all right because
you are the reoccurring kind. You are the reoccurring kind. You never leave my mind.
Are you the love of my lifetime? Because there have been times I have had my doubts.
We were just kids when I first kissed you in the attic of my parents house,
and I wish we were there now. It took so long to figure out what this book has been about.
Now I write when I'm away letters that you never read. You said go to explore those other women,
the geography of their bodies but there is just one map you'll need. You are a boomerang.
You see. You will return to me.
You will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will.
You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will.
Because if you don't, then this book is all lies. If you don't, then my plans would all be ruined.
If you don't, I'll start drinking like the way I drank before.
And I just wont have a future anymore.
|Lover I Don't Have to Love|
~This is the first thing I have submitted, but I ensure the lyrics are flawless.|
Lover I Don't Have To Love
I picked you out Of a crowd to talk to you
Said I liked your shoes
You said thanks can I follow you?
So it's up the stairs and out of view
No prying eyes I poured some wine
I asked your name you asked the time
Now it's two o'clock
Yeah the club is closed we're up the block
Your hands on me pressing hard against your jeans
Your tongue in my mouth trying to keep the words from coming out
You didn't care to know Who else may have been you before...
I want a lover I don't have to love
I want a girl who's to sad to give a fuck
Hey, where's the kid with the chemicals?
I thought he said he'd meet me here but I'm not sure
I got the money if you got the time
He said it feels good I said I'll give it a try
Then my mind went dark
We both forgot where your car was parked
Let's just take the train
I'll meet up with the band in the morning
Bad actors with bad habits
Some sad singers They just play tragic
And the the phone's ringing And the band's leaving
Let's just keep touching
Let's just keep keep singing
I want a lover I don't have to love
I want a boy who's so drunk he doesn't talk
Hey, where's the kid with the chemicals
I got a hunger and I can't seem to get full
I need some meaning I can memorize
The kind I have always seems to slip my mind
But you but you You write such pretty words
But life's no story book
Love is an excuse to get hurt
And to hurt do you like to hurt?
I do I do I do
Then hurt me...
Then hurt me...
Then hurt me...
|Bowl of Oranges|
The rain, it started tapping on the window near my bed. There was a loophole in my dreaming,|
so I got out of it. And to my surprise my eyes were wide and already open.
Just my nightstand and my dresser where those nightmares had just been.
So I dressed myself and left then, out into the gray streets.
But everything seemed different and completely new to me.
The sky, the trees, houses, buildings, even my own body.
And each person I encountered, I couldn't wait to meet.
I came up a doctor who appeared in quite poor health.
I said there is nothing I can do for you
you can't do for yourself."
He said "Oh yes you can. Just hold my hand. I think that would help."
So I sat with him a while and then I asked him how he felt.
He said, "I think I'm cured. No, in fact, I'm sure.
Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile."
So that is how I learned the lesson that everyone is alone.
And your eyes must do some raining if you are ever going to grow.
But when crying don't help and you can't compose yourself.
It is best to compose a poem, an honest verse longing or simple song of hope.
That is why I'm singing...
Baby don't worry cause now I got your back. And every time you feel like crying,
I'm gonna try and make you laugh. And if I can't, if it just hurts too bad,
then we will wait for it to pass and I will keep you company
through those days so long and black.
And we'll just keep working on the problem we know we'll never solve of Love's uneven remainder.
Our lives are fractions of a whole
But if the world could remain in a frame like a painting on a wall.
Then I think we would see the beauty.
Then we would stand staring in awe at
our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges,
like a story told by the fault lines and the soil. play G twice as long this time
|Don't Know When But A Day Is Gonna Come|
s it true what I heard about the Son of God? Did he come to save? Did he come at all?|
And if I dried his feet, with my dirty hair, would he make me clean again?
They say they don't know when but a day is gonna come, when there won't be a moon
and there won't be a sun. It will just go back to the way it was before.
I knew a lovely girl, with such pretty pride, and every man wanted her, and so did I.
So did I. But she up and died in a fit of vanity.
Now men with purple hearts, carry silver guns. And they will kill a man
for what his father has done. But what my father did, you know it don't mean shit.
I'm not him.
So you think I need some discipline, well, I had my share. I have been sent to my room.
I've been sat in a chair. And I held my tongue. I didn't plug my ears. No, I got a good talking to.
And now I don't know why, but I still try to smile when they talk at me
like I'm just a child. Well, I'm not a child. No, I am much younger than that.
And now I have read some books and have grown quite brave. If only I could just speak up I think
I would say that there is no truth. There is only you and what you make the truth.
So I will just sing my song and I'll pass a hat. Then I'll leave your town and never look back.
No, I don't look back because the road is clear and laid out ahead of me.
I'll get home and meet my friends at our favorite bar. We'll get some lighter heads for our heavy hearts.
And we will share a drink. Yeah we will share our fears and they will know how I love them.
They will know how I love. They will know how I love them.
I am nothing without their love.
I don't know when but a day is gonna come when there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun.
It will all go black. It will all go back to the way it is supposed to be.
Is it true what I heard about the Son of God? Did he die for us? Did he die at all?
And if I sold my soul for a bag of gold, which one of us would be the foolish one?
Which one of us would be the fool? Which one of us would be the foolish one?
Which one of us would be the fool?
Could you please start explaining? You know, I need some understanding.
I could do good with some explaining. You know. I want to understand.
|Nothing Gets Crossed Out|
Well the future's got me worried|
Such awful thoughts
My head's a carousel of pictures
The spinning never stops
I just want someone to walk in front
And I'll follow the leader
Like when I fell under the weight of a schoolboy crush
Started carrying her books and doing lots of drugs
I almost forgot who I was
But I came to my senses
Now I'm trying to be assertive
I'm making plans
Gonna rise to the occasion yeah
Meet all their demands
But all I do is just lay in bed
And hide under the covers
Yeah I know I should be brave
But i'm just too afraid of all this change
And it's too hard to focus through all this doubt
I keep making these to-do lists but nothing gets crossed out
Working on the record seems pointless now
When the world ends who's gonna hear it?
But I'm trying to take some comfort in written words
Yeah, Tim, I heard your album and it's better than good
When we get off tour I think we should
Hang and black out together
'Cause I been feeling sentimental for days gone by
All the summers singing, drinking, laughin
Wasting our time
Remember all the songs and the way we smiled
In those basements made of music
But now I've got to crawl to get anywhere at all
I'm not as strong as I thought
So when I'm lost in a crowd
I hope that you'll pick me out
How I long to be found
The grass grew high, I laid down
Now I'm waiting for a hand
To lift me up, help me stand
I've been laying so low
Don't wanna lay here no more
Don't wanna lay here no more
Everything that happens is supposed to be
And it's all predetermined can't change your destiny
Guess I'll just keep moving
Someday maybe I'll get to where I'm going
Our love is dead but without limit, like the surface of the moon
or the land between here and the mountains. It is not these hiding places
that have keep us innocent but the way you taught me to just let it all go by.
So we have learned to be as faithless, stand behind the bulletproof glass,
exchanging our affections through a drawer. It was always horribly convenient
and happening too fast. You should count your change before you are even out the door.
Yes, you should but please...
Return, return to the person that you were. And I will do the same because
it is too hard to belong to someone who is gone. My compass spins.
The wilderness remains.
Once too often, I have retreated into the depths of my despair.
I built a barricade to block you on the road. But standing there with all of my possessions,
piled higher than a house, I felt closer to you than you ever could have known.
So let these tiny acts of charity become common ground of which to build a monument
to commemorate our time. And though, you say,
you've found another who will surely speed you on your way,
don't let the forest grow over that you came there by. But you will, so...
Hurry up and run to the one that you love. And blind him with your kindness.
And he will make war, old war, on who you were before.
And he'll claim all that has spoiled your heart.
Well, now, I tell myself I've mended under these patches of blue sky.
There are still a few holes that let in a little rain. So it is crying on my shingles.
My floorboards moan under my feet. The refrigerator is whining,
so I've got reason to complain. But I am not gonna bless you with such compliments,
some degrading psalm of praise, like the kind that converted you to me so long ago.
Because the truth is that gossip is as good as gospel in this town.
You can save face but you won't ever save your soul. And that's a fact.
Hurry up and run to the one that you love. And tie him in you likeness,
And he'll become, become the prisoner I was. And know all that has spoiled your heart.
|Waste of Paint|
"Waste Of Paint"|
I have a friend, he is made mostly of pain. He wakes up, drives to work,
and then straight back home again. He once cut one of my nightmares out of paper.
I thought it was beautiful, I put it on a record cover.
And I tried to tell him he had a sense of color and composition so magnificent.
And he said "Thank you, please but your flattery is truly not becoming me.
Your eyes are poor. You are blind. You see, no beauty could have come from me.
I am a waste of breath, of space, of time."
I knew a woman, she was dignified and true. Her love for her man was one of her many virtues.
Until one day, she found out that he had lied and decided the rest of her life,
from that point on would be a lie. But she was grateful for everything that had happened.
And she was anxious for all that would come next. But then she wept.
What did you expect? In that big, old house with all those cars she kept.
"Oh!" and "such is life," she often said. With one day leading her to the next,
you get a little closer to your death, which was fine with her.
She never got upset and with all the days she may have left,
she would never clean another mess or fold his shirts or look her best.
She was free to waste away alone.
Last night, my brother he got drunk and drove. And this cop pulled him off to the side of the road.
And he said, "Officer! Officer! You have got the wrong man.
No, no, I'm a student of medicine, the son of a banker, you don't understand!"
The cop said, "No one got hurt, you should be thankful. And you carelessness,
it is something awful. And no, I can't just let you go. And though your father's name is known,
your decisions are yours alone. You are nothing but a stepping stone
on a path to debt, to loss, to shame."
The last few months I have been living with this couple.
Yeah, you know, the kind that buy everything in doubles. They fit together, like a puzzle.
I love their love and I am thankful that someone actually
receives the prize that was promised by all those fairy tales that drugged us.
And they still do me. I'm sick, lonely, no laurel tree, just green envy.
Will my number come up eventually? Like Love is some kind of lottery,
where you can scratch and see what is underneath. It's "Sorry",
just one cherry, "Play Again." Get lucky.
So I have been hanging out down by the train's depot. No, I don't ride.
I just sit and watch the people there. They remind me of wind up cars in motion.
The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions.
And I want to scream out that it is all nonsense.
And that their lives are one track, and can't they see how it is all pointless?
But then, my knees give under me. My head feels weak and
suddenly it is clear to see that it is not them but me, who has lost my self-identity.
As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling my poetry,
like art could save a wretch like me, with some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve.
And I am never real; it is just a sketch of me.
And everything I have is trite and cheap and a waste of paint, of tape, of time.
Sometimes I park my car down my the cathedral, where floodlights point up at the steeples.
Choir practice is filling up with people. I hear the sound escaping as an echo.
Sloping off the ceiling at an angle. When voices blend they sound like angels.
I hope there is still some room left in the middle.
But when I lift my voice up now to reach them. The range is too high, way up in heaven.
So I hold my tongue, forget the song, tie my shoe and start walking off.
And try to just keep moving on, with my broken heart and my absent God
and I have no faith but it is all I want, to be loved and believe in my soul, in my soul...
|From a Balance Beam|
There's a man holding a megaphone|
he must have been the voice of God
The bystanders claimed they saw angels
flying up and down the block
They must have been attached to wires
I seen one laying in the lawn
with a broken arm
so I called 911
Well that's one less founded opinion
One more cause for a dispute
So the street filled like a basin
up with cameras and their crews
and they washed away the rumors
leaving just the concrete truth
It was a spectacle
No, I mean a miracle
And so I fell like that girl from a balance beam
A gymnasium of eyes
all were holding on to me
I lifted one foot to cross the other
and I felt myself slipping
It was a small mistake
Sometime's that's all it takes
Now I'm staring at my wrist, hoping that the time is right
When the planets will align
There will be no planets to align
Just the carcass of the sun and those little painted marbles spinning
senseless through an endless black sky
(and so it never started and it will never stop just like I am and you are)
It was in a foreign hotel's bathtub I baptized myself and changed
And one by one I drowned all of the people I had been.
And I emerged to find the parallels were fewer
I was cleansed
I looked in the mirror and
someone new was there
but I was as helpless as a chess piece when I was lifted up by
And delivered from the corner my enemies had got me in
But in all of my salvation I still felt imprisoned'Inside that holding cell
That is myself
So I wait for the day when I hear the key
as it turns in the lock and the guard will say to me:
"Oh my patient prisoner you have waited for this day and finally....
You are free! You are free! You are free!"
Now I'm staring at the sun
waiting for it to explode
Because a day is gonna come, don't know when
but it will come
And we'll finally know the way
out of here.
And I will throw away this wrinkled map and my chart of stars and compass, cracked
And I'll climb that tree all wet with sap, to avoid the hungry beasts below
I'll cut out my lover's tongue and sing
of a graveyard gray and a garden green
and we won't have to worry no more
No, we won't have to wonder again about how this song or story ends,
about how this song and story will end
Laura, are you still living there on your estate of sorrow? You used to leave it occasionally.
Now, you don't even bother to ride that commuter train west to Chicago,
to stroll through the greenery, in the park, past the statues.
How their eyes seemed to follow you like a hated addiction.
Their beauty carved out of absolutes that you could never claim, or even envision.
Laura you were the saddest song in the shape of a woman. I thought you were beautiful,
but I wept with your movements. I hope you are laughing now from that place of the carpet
where we shared a sleeping bag, in your sisters apartment. Oh how she would worry so, you know,
I was just a stranger. But she asked me to care for you. That is what she did
and I went and betrayed her. But do you know we are in high demand,
Laura, us people who suffer? Because we don't take to arguing and we are quick to surrender.
Well, I think I would call tonight if I still had your number.
Your thoughts have always laid close to mine. We were both skipping supper.
But you should never be embarrassed by your trouble with living.
Because it is the ones with the sorest throats, Laura, who have done the most singing. Everybody!
La La La La La La La La La Lah...