1. |
End Scene
06:30
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In about half of my dreams
I am another
Talking in my sleep
About gardens and the garage
Where I tinker on myself
We’re growing like flowers
On a molten lawn
For the duration of the parade
I’ll be in the shade
Beyond the holocene
I’ll be riding on the coattail
Of the final scene
Waiting for the curtain
Of the sea
My oh my, the sun bright tonight
Follow the light
She said follow the light
I said hell no
I’m not ready to
Follow the light
She said follow the light
I said hell no
I’m not ready to go
My oh my the sun bright tonight
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2. |
Garden v. Mowers
03:10
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Watch the lush garden from the high window
It’s an island maze,
It’s a skillful growth we sowed
Weave yourself into the
Colours of the garlands and laurels
Such a happy place to be in
Set the small pebbles by the undergrowth
In a secret code that only you will know
Swipe the brume out of the way
Of the light in the room
So you can see the fable you’re in
Living in a world of wallpaper wisteria
Close enough, close enough
You came here to pick flowers
Now you’re mowing the lawn
Mourn the slow river as a low minstrel
It’s a gravel road with a plastic parasol
Take a nice picture as a memento
It’s a landmark soul, it’s a pasture in repose
Weave yourself into the
Colours of the garlands and laurels
Such a happy place to be in
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3. |
Sandy Cove
05:35
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There’s a man worth following
He knows a thing or two about you
His mind is like a folding chair
You can take it anywhere
And use it when the weight of your affairs have humbled you so
I hope that you know it
Sometimes I forget
Everyone around me metamorphosizes on a whim
I don’t know who anyone is
I’m told that there’s a distance between who you are
And who you want to be
But how I see it, it’s more who you are and who you could’ve been
And that’s why I worry about it all of the time
Marked for the anointed
It should’ve been you
Locked into the mindset
It could only be true
And when I see you lying there
What is it I should do?
Grass grows by the inch, dies by our feet
When we go anywhere
Just go anywhere, I don’t care
Let’s just go, let’s go
I’m weary, I am feeling dreary
It’s not in my head I am an echo
I must owe somebody royalties for all of my troubles
Every room I spend my time in has no windows
Sometimes it’s just better not to see too far ahead
For if you know now what you’d later know
You may find a rabbit hole to get stuck in
There’s nothing romantic about the fall of Rome
Can’t unring a bell, can’t undo a wrong
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4. |
I Left the Light on
04:52
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I left the light on
On in the house
There’s something I’m after that’s freaking me out
Running faster after blunders,
You’re not alone
You’re a walking disaster
Always in doubt
Wondering what they’re
Talking so loudly about
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5. |
Fooling you Some
04:02
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In the eyes, in the eyes, in the eyes
In the eyes of a song
There’s a liar, there’s a liar
There’s a liar that’s fooling you some
What you’re asking for is honesty
I’m not sure what that means to me
But I know
The crooked oars are steering me astray
Or are they?
Other than for pity,
It’s not exactly a party on Sundays,
A requiem for the one who
Will bear the incredible weight
Of the folks getting high
On everything he will say
Oh, what you ask of him is suicide
Hallellucinating, sanctifying
And he knows the words he’ll speak
Will someday do harm
Or will they?
Other than for pity,
It’s not exactly a party on Sundays
In the eyes, in the eyes, in the eyes
In the eyes of a psalm
There’s a liar with a lyre on a wire
That’s fooling you some
What you’re looking for is certainty
But what you’re getting is a comedy
You know the signs
are clear
you’re certain that they’re there,
but are they?
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6. |
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Il y a les soirées où on s’imaginait seuls
À vivre dans nos pensées respectives
À l’heure qu’il est, la lune est morte de rire
Car elle sait bien que tu ne pourras jamais aller ailleurs
Il y a les soirées où on s’imaginait jeunes
À courir saouls et nu.e.s dans les ruelles
La peur du noir, l’oiseau nocturne, incompatibles
L’amour de l’aube, à quatre heures du matin
Aller ailleurs
J’ai la ballade en moi
À me rendre malade
Si je n’y vais pas
Je n’existe pas
Comme une fleur digitale
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7. |
My Burrow
03:10
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I want to be great, but I don’t like waiting
I want to escape, but I don’t like leaving you behind
I wanted to feel, without having to steal nothing
I wanted a lover, and then I wanted another
There’s a line for the stall
Where the windows are tall
And I can pass the time
Bird-watching birds watching me
Wondering about my life
I wanted to swim, no water in sight
I wanted to feel the breeze, but I don’t want to go outside
I don’t want to regret, so I tried a cigarette
I don’t want to be old, like the winter don’t want to be cold
Fast forward, rewind,
Isn’t it about time to
Throw your own rose parade
March past the sulking window
Where you used to bellyache
I don’t want to do nothing
I want to do something, but I’m just walking around
Always coming and going continually south
With a bad taste in my mouth
I wanted to be a morning person
I wanted to see a cherry-blossom
For years I rejected your version of heaven
I ran for my life in the sun
But when I fell in line, I saw a little white light
And I knew my time had come
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8. |
Flirt With Boredom
03:20
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I blocked your calls
Your name is a dreadful nudge
When I hit the wall this fall
The unspeakable thoughts
I’m not here at all
I don’t want to leave my bed
I’m stapled to the wall
In search of fountainheads
I flirt with boredom
I lost my words in it
I try to think of something else
But I love to hate myself
Spring blossomed just in time
To show me a sign of life
Perhaps her hand is there
To settle this affair
A fraction of a flower
Sits by the lawnmower
Good thing I hesitate
To do my chores today
To just imagine us
To and fro, runaway
On that old chicken bus
A fatal ricochet
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9. |
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The cities hung low at the edge of my window
Like a bad idea, both windy and hollow
Silent as yesterday, loud as tomorrow
The polished, plastic, picture of sorrow
When I have something new to say I’ll say it to the moon
Perched atop it from a room with perfect alpine views
I’m hanging on the yellow wall when tigers used to smoke
I remember vaguely what I used to know
Alonealonealonealonealonealonealone
I am sorting through imaginary loose ends
And I am signing rainchecks for all of my friends
I’ll see you when I see you
And I loved you when I loved you
And I miss you I miss you
Alonealonealonealonealonealonealone
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Matt Holubowski Montreal, Québec
Matt Holubowski's first album 'Ogen, Old Man' was written and recorded in the spirit of simplicity, embracing of
imperfection, and the search for truth and meaning. The raw, lo-fi album meant to bring the focus back to story telling, as was originally the tradition of folk music.
Holubowski's second opus is set to appear in the fall, with more arrangements and colours, but the same candour.
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