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A Restless Symphony

by The Penske File

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1.
We sang the chorus of time.
 Tonight my rear view mirror will drive me home,
 and if I don’t speak clearly, baby don’t hold it against me. 
‘Cause I’m exploding towards the skyline and I’m bursting at the dreams. 
Oh, how the time has passed 
with friends and age and ash. 
It’s made me believe.
2.
We’re all reborn in a hurricane. 
Blinded by sharp and heavy greys. 
Since that day I haven’t felt the same, 
catastrophes through a windowpane, 
catastrophes crashing down on me.
 
 Six more starry nights to ease my brain
 this metronome hangs in a still frame, 
on a battered boat, banking on a shore.

 We’ll all wake up one day with new skin,
 spit out of the crashing waves. 
We can teach these tattered tides to talk the talk ,
If we roll like thunder, will it strike like lightning?
 The rubble rambles in my skull,
beautiful and frightening.

 Now my ship don’t float the same.
 I found the jackline overboard again this morning.
 It must have blown away when the storm hit.
 We ignored all the warnings,
banking on that shore.

3.
The Valley 02:59
In the centre of this suburb there’s a back creek 
where the kids get whittled down, 
and at the edge of the water there’s a seamless hint of autumn
 in the sounds.
 Now my brain starts beating faster
and my heart, a ghetto blaster to the shroud 
of twisting winding trees. Lets turn these creeks into seas, and sing aloud.

 We won’t let these cities conquer us.
 We’ll watch them rise and fall. 
So climb on out of your basement room, 
‘cause we’re leaving soon. 

In the centre of this city 
the sidewalk cracks and it’s not pretty, 
as a tired man sleeps upon the vent
 suits stroll by with broken pity and it’s sad.
 Some nights we sell it all short and that’s all we have. 

We’re leaving tonight
4.
Our fingertips are numb, linking hands around your coffin as your world ends chasing the red robins. I’m sorry you never made summer, fall, or winter, as you ride away. We cut our teeth on laughter and ambition, and now your smile burns with the sunrise, love and sorrow. No man I won’t return the dreams we stole.

 There’s laughter in the graveyard tonight. There’s open wounds sealed with wax. Candlelight, cards, and chords. When I feel like you’re still around I feel like I’m home.

 The seasons still turn, the kids still yearn, but now your bedroom is a stagnant memoir. Your parents still laugh and your sisters still in school and the highway is still calling my name, but none of us will ever be the same again 

Six more starry nights to numb our pain. I remember when you told me you weren’t afraid to die. So fill it up, so we’ll fill it up and watch it drain away Grab a glass, reminisce, we’ll take this day by day.
 Guide me home
5.
BLW 03:19
Black leather wallet with 20 dollars inside, it’s not mine ‘cause I owe more to the government and my parents. Dear landlord I can’t pay my rent no more
 I’ve grown bored with the papers, numbers, pens, and debts, the deadline and the ink I can’t erase. Take me away from this place

 The term is over, and I’m still alive my friend so me and Ben will drive to where the highway ends. We’ll spark one up and set it off. As the years they come the thoughts they grow.
 The real world is looming so breath this in my friend.
6.
I’m just a crack on the ground, a stone on the road on my words I trip, and from my dreams I’ll fall.
 So follow the crack on the horizon, before it freezes under you.
 I’m just a crack on the ground, a stone on the road, and forever I reach for the unattainable.
 So drive through the night. We’ll find peace in the struggle.
 So leave my mind on the ground, and give my soul to the sky. Another stone on the road, trying to fly
 So fly on airways with time tonight. You’ll find me further down the line.
 Follow the crack on the horizon.
7.
Yeah I’ve been thinking about what the hell to apply myself to taking in consideration all the things that I love to do, like loading in before the start, like hopping in a van to spread apart the real from fiction, or at least what I construe as the colours inconsistent to black and white.
 And I’d like to think I know that everything will fall in its space like the puzzle I built 13 years ago at my folks’ old place. But that place has passed with friends and age and ash
 Yeah, I’ve been thinking
 I’ve been paving this road with lullabies of wasted time and a hint of hope, in that summer smoke. And this autumn air it speaks to me from the coloured leaves fallin’ off those trees and I realize the world drifts along while everyone is singing their own song.
 Everyone is singing their own song
8.
Wild Youth 02:36
I was sitting on a park bench, just 16, 

christening my virgin lungs and coming clean 

in my own head, in my own mind.

 Hanging with some friends that I haven't forgot 

in Sherwood Park Forest, that old hometown spot,

 we were coming into our own.
 Falling apart from the start. 

And we went wild 

The trains passed by, that’s how we measured the time ,
every hour on the 13, straight through the night. 

We were wasted, youthful and faithless.


 Then it came down like a bomb, we had lost our brother 

it was that ever-loving summer where we needed each other ,

we were mourning by the moonlight, waiting for the sun to rise. 



And we went wild 


Now the years pass by, with friends, and age, and ash 
now I believe, so set me free .
With asphalt and chalk lines we drew out our nights
 and never realized they wouldn't rub off
 so don't rub off, stay with me 

And we'll go wild
9.
Interlude 00:25
10.
This landscape makes its mark on my mind and the radio yells “ Oh, the times”. Beating hearts are releasing, tired of the grey wind, finding paintbrushes in eyes. Repaint these streets, with the art of state of mind.
 The gaslight’s on, but the song’s still going strong. I can’t pull over now.
 Consume the freedom, consume the energy. ‘Cause it’s been depleted, remedies and melodies two lanes that look so bare, heart frames and wheels that stare, a dark night with nothing but a match, an itchy mind and fingers that can scratch.
 I can’t pull over now.
11.
The Escapist 05:21
Tattered pockets, and spare change just buying time to chase these clouds away and every hour that he did drain left the bags under his eyes and the bullets in his brain.
 We can’t keep living in still frames. Tear these pictures down, embrace this feeling. The restlessness he can’t shake, haunted by the hour glass and open graves. Sometimes it takes some time to get rid of that bad taste. It lingers on his tongue, for too long, until he sings his song.
 I won’t be home for long. With packed bags and pacing lungs these new scars will prove you wrong. I’m alive when the night hits, smashed open wide until the dawn.
 From the palms of my hands I can feel these walls are real and this shrinking ceiling informs me that we’ll all be gone someday I know we can find hope in the exits, I feel it as these notes choke up my fear. I heard we’re all drowning in the waves, but it’s Friday night and tonight we dance for graves. Tonight we dance for graves.
12.
This is it, this is the end. I only have 6 or 7 words left to the letter that I wrote: just text to burn, I’ll join it up in smoke.
 As this road whittles down, just before my bones lay underground, I’ll sing a song to the sky to you. I hope you’re tired, tried and true.
 This is it this is the end. you mine for meaning: the precious metals of your last breath. Would you trade them in for a second chance? I’ll hold them dear while I pass.
 I only have one shaky verse left to the song that wrote itself so I could pass in good health and spiral into the great unknown. 
 So come on join me up in smoke. Take my hand we’ll drift away. Come on baby, this will be my last day This is it, this is the end.
13.
All the time that’s passed has made me believe 
in these sick, starry nights,
 and in these lonesome highway rides, 
and in this indecision, and in your sleepy eyes. 
 I found the chorus of time.

credits

released April 26, 2013

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The Penske File Burlington, Ontario

Burning with the earth in symmetry

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