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Hearsay Is 20​/​20

by T.C. Folkpunk

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1.
Easter time fourteen, wonder where she's been, Hiding so long, now hooked with a song, Tiger damselfish, granting you a wish, Sharing a sign, birthdays aligned, Ingenue emeritus, On your mark, get set, discuss, Ingenue emeritus, No one understands the fuss, Returning to the scene, after 3:19, Day sixty- nine, erasing a line, Red dress comes alive, to Beatles '65, Here in this place, your new state of Grace, Ingenue emeritus, On your mark, get set, discuss, Ingenue emeritus, No one understands the fuss, Now nobody, holds a candle, To the torch you carry to the game, Cross your heart and, hope to dilate, Both her pupils till she feels the same, T-shirt dancing squad, fancy footwork flawed, Meanwhile in back, the girls get the knack, Forward three more days, fireworks and haze, Take after take, in bed wide awake, Ingenue emeritus, On your mark, get set, discuss, Ingenue emeritus, No one understands the fuss.
2.
Now he's looking for someone, Sort of Danielle, as near as he can tell, Though he's looking for someone, He sort of likes Danielle as well. Picture up on a scene at a party, Cameras rolling and fate's controlling the script, Ochre walls punctuated with paintings, Two old masters of love's disasters lock lips, But meanwhile, Back in reality he's juggling the shards and the fragments of whatever, Make up his current frame of life. Now he's looking for someone, Sort of Danielle, as near as he can tell, Though he's looking for someone, He sort of likes Danielle as well. In the wake of a Saturday sunset, Hugs are tendered till he surrendered within, Call to action, reciting a wish list, Realizing the one she's prizing is him, But meanwhile, Trapped in a bubble where the air is now as thin as his patience he's decided, To break the surface tension soon. Now he's looking for someone, Sort of Danielle, as near as he can tell, Though he's looking for someone, He sort of likes Danielle as well, Sort of like Danielle as well, Thinkin' 'bout Danielle as well.
3.
Was it wrong to have perceived a spark? And being so much in the dark, Would any light appear to be a beacon? And if someone thinks the world of you, In the face of nothing new, No surprise if one's resolve is… Weekend and weekdays go by in a crawl, A private general malaise, Until you trip and you properly fall, Ending a year of a month of Sundays. The world of you, the world of you, I think I think the world of you, I see no fault in my world view, If my world is the world of you. You can pour the past out of your pen, Turn the page and start again, Writing till the wrongs are long forgotten, So you're beautiful and sharp and drawn, To romantic marathons, Running on while exercising… Caution gets thrown to the wind and wolves, The heart out-foxes the brain, Hunting the half that could fill the hole, Building up something from pieces of pain. The world of you, the world of you, I think I think the world of you, I see no fault in my world view, If my world is the world of you. The world of you, the world of you, I think I think the world of you, I see no fault in my world view, If my world is the world of you. If my world is the world of you, Now my world is the world of...
4.
It's Her! 02:16
It's her! It's her! It's her! Well that was unexpected: To see yourself reflected in Someone you chance-encountered Someone who's now amounted to, Only everything you're burning for, You wax poetic as you're melted to the core. It's her! It's her! It's her! You don't know what you're missing, Until it ends up kissing you, With lips that steam wide open, Some secret you were hoping to Keep inside of you at any cost, But now your confidentiality is lost. It's her! It's her! It's her! It's her, End your search, You came, you saw, you concurred, It's her, And now you try to write her, Amourous diatribal things, Good luck articulating, The twisting of this mating game, It's monopolized your every thought, You string yourself along and tie yourself in knots. It's her! It's her! It's her! It's her! It's her! It's her!
5.
She's something like a poem, But it seems nobody else has yet desired, To give eternal words, To a smile that at the very least requires, Couplets or a stanza or a verse, To do her restless beauty all the justice it deserves, She's something like a poem, You could read repeatedly for inspiration, And memorize each line, And curve and movement in captivation, Lyrics that you know will never cease, On the way to shaping a handwritten masterpiece, And when she's novelized, And you only want to get between her covers, Haiku d'etat prevails, As you overthrow and overwrite past lovers, Bind her to your arbitrary self, Bookend her with other mysteries on your top shelf, She's something like a poem, That will make you laugh when you least expect it, Absorbing every phrase, From a manuscript someone else rejected, Quoting her to yourself late at night, Solitary sonnets as your only source of light.
6.
He Could 03:06
He could, if just given half a chance, She would, but she's been ruined by romance, They should, because life is short and pointless anyway. He could give up everything just to wake up next to her, And he could hold her 'til a chemical sunset takes the earth, And he could be her final love, For all his time that's left above The ground. He could, if just given half a chance, She would, but she's been ruined by romance, They should, because life is short and pointless anyway. She would be the first to freely admit her wings were clipped, Masking the pain with some self-deprecating quip, Her imperfections won't be marred, And she won't let down her guard Too far, He could, if just given half a chance, She would, but she's been ruined by romance, They should, because life is short and pointless anyway. Reeling from reality, Frame to frame finality, To be screening all the options, Exhausting his exhaustion, From tiff to riff and back to tiff again. They should bury all the rules and just live for what is left, And each stolen kiss becomes a justifiable theft, They might as well with all their might, Seize both the day and night, They've already paid their dues, To past unions, now they're free To choose. He could, if just given half a chance, She would, but she's been ruined by romance, They should, because life is short and pointless anyway. Anyway, Anyway, Anyway...
7.
Baby come on out, and open up your garage door, I said hey come on out, and open up your garage door, I just want to park my bus in there, Don't care about its pink slips anymore, Well I'd make you some coffee but I can't get this spoon in the jar, Yes I'd make you some coffee but I can't get this spoon in the jar, The kettle's boilin' over baby the Sugar is twinklin' like the stars, Well I tried to wrap your birthday present, I couldn't fit it in the box, Yes I tried to wrap your birthday present, I couldn't fit it in the box, I crawled down to the liquor store, And left your present in dry dock, Well I tried and I tried but this here umbrella just won't give, Yes I tried and I tried but this here umbrella just won't give, If you ceiling keeps on leakin' baby, I can't keep my umbrella hid, Well I dreamed about you Tuesday night, come Wednesday it didn't make sense, Yes I dreamed about you Tuesday night, Wednesday it didn't make no sense, Well I'd lie down on the couch and tell you, But my pockets feel so tense,
8.
Maybe he's crazy, maybe he's coming undone, Maybe he's crazy, now he's gone and hurt a certain one. An anaesthetic administered locally, And went straight to his mouth 'til his tongue mutinied, And lashed the one he'd sworn himself to guard, A careless verbal dagger struck the softest place so hard. Maybe he's crazy, maybe he's coming undone, Maybe he's crazy, now he's gone and hurt a certain one A darkened phantom from reckless youth had returned, And took control until one more bridge had been burned, And by the time he saw the smouldering heap, He wished he could rebuild it so he'd have somewhere to leap. Maybe he's crazy, maybe he's coming undone, Maybe he's crazy, now he's gone and hurt a certain one Now in the bathroom he's quietly locked the door, And leans against the wall 'til he slides to the floor, And there he sobs in silence and regret, While offering up anything to save whatever's left. Maybe he's crazy, maybe he's coming undone, Maybe he's crazy, now he's gone and hurt a certain one, Maybe he's crazy, crazy is as crazy does, Maybe he's crazy, now he's hurt someone he loves.
9.
This antique shop is filled with bicycles, This pen's the only thing that kills the dull, And you're two hundred miles north by north west, Whether you miss me is anyone's guess, I stare at the glass, try to make it last, The temptation's great to inhale a crate, A night off the town in a town melting down. Between the screens and the Tiffany lamps, Some background muzak, gypsies thieves and tramps, The room's deserted this side of the bar, A somber setting for tonight's memoir, Are you under the sky on a beach standing by, For the whole milky way to come out on display? A night off the town in a town melting down. The days we're separated, Play at half speed, I've waited, Too many years this weekend, While draining ink from this pen. (instr) And so by 2 A.M. I've been excused, From this excuse for a night on the loose, I'm loaded just enough to go off half cocked, The final chapter an empty sidewalk, And home to a cage where I'll stay up and pace, And lift one more drink in your direction I think, A night off the town, in a town melting down.

about

Originally released in January 2017, but re-mixed and re-released in April 2018.

credits

released April 4, 2018

Recorded and mixed July-August 2016 at Fine Productions, Toronto.
Re-mixed by T.C. in April 2018
Produced by T.C.
Co-produced by Harrison Fine.
Engineered by Harrison Fine.
Mastered by Jeff Elliott at Fedge.
Vocals, guitars, harmonica, percussion: T.C.
Handclaps on "Froodian Slips Ahoy!": T.C. and Harrison.
Front cover painting "Dreaming Nude" by Jude Klassen.
Back cover photo "Found Heart" by Jude Klassen.
All songs registered with SOCAN

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T.C. Folkpunk Toronto, Ontario

One guy with a guitar and a notebook full of lyrics.

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