1. |
I Know You Pray To God
03:53
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I Know You Pray To God
I heard you speak when you thought I was asleep.
Giving your thanks like as if you said,
I’ve got my friends, but they’re no one you know,
and family, but none that know me well.
tell me again whom you are a child to
name me a friend someone you can’t lose
show me the right stranger on the street
and when you speak know that I’ve got mine
I know you pray to God
But I know a better father
I know you pray to God
But I know a better mother
I know you pray to God
But I know a better sister
I know you pray to God
But I know a better brother
She cut your hair when you were a child
The way you like a little off the side
Drove you to school and tucked you in at night
Kept on the light to make sure you were fine
Bare feet and loose clothes that she would clean
And wiped your tears when the other kids were mean
and we will walk like young men and women
Someone might die but it won’t be me
I know you pray to God
But I know a better father
I know you pray to God
But I know a better mother
I know you pray to God
But I know a better sister
I know you pray to God
But I know a better brother
Into the night that’s always there for me
the dirt and loose earth slips off my feet
I fell asleep somewhere
but don’t look for me, you will not find me there
I know you pray to God
But I know a better father
I know you pray to God
But I know a better mother
I know you pray to God
But I know a better sister
I know you pray to God
But I know a better brother
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2. |
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Helping put your dress on
Helping put your dress on
Helping put your dress on
Helping put your dress on
Windows shake from passing cars
CDs skip, repeating parts.
We’re hummingbirds, we’re small talk,
never know the words, hollow thoughts.
Pulling in your hips, kissing your mouth
Nothing to be figured out
My fluttered little heart
Flecks feathers slowly apart
Helping put your dress on
Helping put your dress on
Helping put your dress on
Helping put your dress on
Parting your hair around your face
Slipping the hairpins into place
Are these the days that I would replay?
Moments I remember when we fade away
Heavy heart, another ticker-taught part
Our flirting feelings, let’s stay in the dark.
But I’m pretty sure I’ve always heard
Someone calling my name when I stood
Helping put your dress on
Helping put your dress on
Helping put your dress on
Helping put your dress on
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3. |
The Vanishing Act
03:10
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I’m sorry I’m so difficult to talk to, sometimes my mouth doesn’t open when I want to, and if you don’t mind I could use some help, there’s just nothing in my head for my mind to speak out
and so I’m milking the liquor, slipping the features, slurring my speech with my friends John and Laurie, the rest is easy but they trill and chirr like insects and birds. I won’t eat though it hurts cause
loss of weight and thoughts of hunger replace thoughts of dying when I’m lost for words until I’m home, although I was alone when I was a kid, I said I’d be okay, or at least I thought I did.
But on this stage looking down ‘cause just being in here, makes my fucking heart pound, holding my head down, hope I don’t drown, my eyes are closed now, and waiting for this fucking shit to calm down…fuck
The calculated clangour clings close too close to home, so console me I was never made of stone, so come close come close, and when I’m asleep and longer not running, the cowboys are coming
My vision barrels, coil of a snail shell. I clear my throat but I still can’t breathe for most of it. I did what I could but honestly I just stopped trying to feel good.
I’m copyrighting my counterculture, this is my vanishin’ act I can’t take the weight I’m underneath, my lungs collapse, heavy steps, I starve myself to lose the weight in my chest. My cribbed heart, the grips of the rib cage, I take apart them, the apartheid, the post partum. Rip me open, free the tension in my chest to hear the sound the pound of my oil drum. Budum budum the dread that makes my heart beat out. Budum budum the the feeling that I can live without, liquid efflux rush, tooth crushed, copeless, hopeless, head rush, shush
The calculated clangour clings close too close to home, so console me I was never made of stone, so come close come close, and when I’m asleep and longer not running, the cowboys are coming
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4. |
When I Was Younger
02:37
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My brother died when I was younger the look my mother made
I remember the call that told us you just wanted to come home
You lived young for a child she only had you for a while
I never asked to be anything, wasted my life and I’d never want another (without)
I’m almost the age when you died, always thought I’d feel the same as you
I remember when I told him I loved him and it felt so strange
Now all I do is play it over again and wish I said it to him more
But all that I ever wonder is that you’re my oldest brother and I’ll never have another
And all that I can ever think of is how awful it is to no longer be a mother
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Inna Powell Toronto, Ontario
Inna Powell is a Toronto-based indie rock/alt-folk artist whose intense and engrossing performances contrast their anxious and soft-spoken offstage persona. While the songwriting is grounded in traditional folk arrangements, Powell fuses diverse influences-ranging from spoken word and bluegrass to hip-hop and emo–to present a unique musical soundtrack that varies from one composition to the next. ... more
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