The Threads
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Released: Nov 28, 2008
Our first album, including eleven solid tracks.
We still have limited number of physical CD copies available. Contact us if you’d like to order a copy.
Track List
1. What’s Inside
2. Change
3. Sick and Tired
4. The Threads
5. Salvation
6. Walk the Earth
7. Sometimes Rhythms
8. These Streets
9. The Next Ones to Come
10. Chasing Trains
11. Home
Lyrics
Click any track name below to expand the lyrics.
- 1. What's Inside
What have I made up in my head? Am I doing that again.. is it the system, that I’m twisting, or just the words inside my head? Am I doing that again.. what have I made up in my head, is it the system, that I’m twisting, or just the words inside my head?
Maybe it’s for friction.. just friction.. so that I can write these songs. Maybe it’s an attempt.. it’s just an attempt now… to try and write some wrongs that’s been going on.
I heard you say, thought I heard you say, that you tend to lose track of the days.. I lose track of those days.. and my emotions go up on display. But who’s to know? how do you know? where the days tend to go, when they go.. when they all float away, where do they go, when the day gives way to the great unknown..
Maybe it’s for freedom of expression, written through my ball point pen.. cause every day’s a quest from the very first breath.. to step and take your stand. It’s not always easy, it’s never easy.. to see the truth inside these words… cause they can be arranged in so many different ways and those truths can all get burned.. The same sentence can make so much sense like the ones you’ve never heard before.. but theres got to be a way to say the things we need, without opening that door to war..
- 2. Change
The change in my pocket goes a long way, like the truth.. when it changes hands it can be put to more than just one use.. some stand by, waiting to get high.. others put their hands out just to try and get some food.. living in the moment, well sometimes, day by day.. it’s hard to see or even recognize the change.. but my friend’s got a son, and a friend’s passed away and now there’s no way.. things will ever be the same. Change is pain, but the same train that takes you, puts life in your veins, unlike the chains that hold you.. but change is change and is everything but the same, and yet we wonder if it’s still the same you..
I have no explanation for the reason that we justify our judgement on another human being.. jealousy can blind you, and in the voice of an influence always in our ear telling us who we could be.. but quieting the voices, while holding to beliefs of free speech, and that every one must speak to be free, even in the thickest form of judgement, the weight of the importance, is heavier than gold.. so write what you think.. speak what you think.. shout when you speak of the things that you seek.. dance with your heart and your soul and your feet.. like the colors of fall in the leaves on the trees..
It’s hard to see change when the sky stays the same.. and the government is up to the same clever games.. one by one some count them off like they were days, the changes and the challenges that brought us to today.. it’s hard to see change when the sky stays the same.. and the government is up to the same clever days.. one by one some count them off like they were days, the names of all the people that are dying every day.
- 3. Sick and Tired
She’s sick and tired of them looking at her tits.. she’s sick and tired of em thinking about their tips.. driving big trucks.. trying to cover up for the lack of or fact of the size that it is. Undressed with the eyes, hope for the right signs maybe some kind of invitation.. but he wouldn’t know what to do if he got one.. she gives a little shake, just so she can mock them..
She’s sick and tired of em starting at her ass.. stepping in the way when she try’s to walk past.. it takes a small group just to get the nerve, and they all look the same when she steps from the curb. A shirt that says fight, a hat that says beer, and a fear of the finger that he likes in the rear.. he’d probably never admit that he hopes she won’t stop, cause he never took the time to figure out how to talk..
He never took the time to see it in a different light, to think about what’s right.. never for a second even wondered if his actions were a burden in someone’s life..
You gotta take the time to see it in a different light.. to think about what’s right.. to think for a second that the shit that your doing is a burden in someone’s life..
She’s sick and tired of em kicking her down.. treated like a piece of what’s been going around.. the only time that she’s treated like a queen, is in-between her dreams and the invisibility.. Now what do I got to do to be seen.. she thinks and she schemes.. standing in the checkout line, staring at the cover of those magazines.. questioning the ‘here’s what your supposed to be’ the ‘here’s what your supposed to wear’… as if decolonizing threads would stop the strip-me-glares..
- 4. The Threads
These stories give way to the truth.. if you dig deep enough to the proof. Of a moral obligation that’s lost in the process of trying to compete for the deepest of pockets.. for profit.. and labor that comes cheap.. to slopes that are too steep and summits just out of reach.. listen to the language cause it’s hard to speak.. and it’s socially constructed to name and delete.. to cheat.. to trick and deceive.. to create the need, for things that we see.. it’s hand made, free trade, keep taking advantage of the people who seem weak.. the people with real needs..
there’s more dollar bills in the pockets of the still rich.. the same ones that hand stitched the seams of this sickness.. and hone in on kids that will work for the cheapest.. and say they’re better off, then they were with out this..
The shirts that we’re wearing tell a story, the shoes.. the fabric that rests on my back hold the clues.. and the threads holding tight to these seams.. that’s the threshold that hides what is not that we see..
These stories give way to the truth.. to the struggles the loss, to choose, to not.. to think and then think.. and then talk. To think about the places that we step when we walk.. to think about the cause and effect.. to think about what might happen next. To think about the past, and the systems that crashed, and the stories we cannot forget..
Black Elk speaks and it’s hard for some to listen cause they never got in touch with the earth.. and the city’s got a way of covering the sediment.. preventing us from working in the dirt.. Black Elk speaks and it’s hard for some to listen cause they never got in touch with the earth.. and the city’s got a way of covering the sediment.. preventing us from working in the dirt.. Woven through the form of consumption.. we can turn to resistance to fortunes, investments to coffins.. another shot of Che on a shirt.. another advertisement that works to create things that hurt.. Woven through the form of consumption.. we can turn to resistance to fortunes, investments to coffins.. another shot of Che on a shirt.. another advertisement that works to create things that hurt..
- 5. Salvation
I find my salvation, in the rays of the sun.. and I find my solutions, when the cool winds come..
These are rituals, of a beautiful place.. passed down through hands, and whispered with grace.. from the old to the young, from the teacher to the student.. who know how to use it, and not to abuse it.. It helps time to carry just a little bit of peace.. in this life, in this world, where it’s hard to receive.. to appreciate the earth, and the beauty of the sun.. for a little bit of clarity, when the day is done..
We need some tolerance.. and some kindness.. treat this love like it was the last kiss.. with the ability to recognize another’s beliefs.. to respect what they see.. when it’s not what we see.. and the ability to think about the things that you do.. before the things that you do.. affect the people around you.. that’s mindfulness, confidence.. honest conscious thoughts, falling from strong lips.. coming from strong minds who insist on good vibes, who don’t twist the truth and then leave them with land mines.. lies.. because those land mines they take lives.. they take limbs.. and leave family’s broken.
- 6. Walk the Earth
You could walk the whole earth.. and keep walking.. sail across the ocean.. and keep going.. keep moving.. keep floating.. keep searching for the edges of the system that we live in.. You could walk the whole earth.. and keep walking.. sail across the ocean.. and keep going.. keep moving.. keep floating.. keep searching for the edges of the system that we live in..
You might see a fist raised.. you might see the last days.. or the unification of an entire nation.. you might hear someone say what you’ve been thinking but in a new way.. you might see a new state.. or the privatization of the dirt and the rain.. and people walking over streets with pain.. trying to re-claim their rights.. and re-frame the fight..
You might see a man burned.. just to see some heads turn.. you might see fifty thousand walking until the streets have been re-taken, and the temporary leaders all running and shaking.. you might see.. history repeat and retreat.. and then repeat to keep thieves, wealthy and consistently.. stealing from the ones in need.. maybe it’s time to walk again until the edge is seen..
- 7. Sometimes Rhythms
Some people go to work and then they come back home.. get up with the sun.. and do it all again. Get back on the road, and it has no end.. it’s hard to find the time to enjoy your friends.. It’s just as soon as the last leaf falls.. maybe it’s time, and maybe it’s not, to go.. but the cold creeps in with the dark of the day.. the light from the fireplace fades away..
Sometimes rhythms self destruct.. a whole lot of dreaming when your feeling stuck.. a chapter at a time but this one’s gone to long.. and I forgot, I got.. to turn the page and walk.. sometimes rhythms self destruct.. some call it karma and some say it’s luck.. sometimes the day just drags on too long.. and you got to find a way to change the path your on..
What makes the time go slow.. what makes it hard to know.. or take so long for you to find which way to go.. what gives us writer’s block.. and then what makes it stop.. or slip and then regain my grip on all these thoughts.. days go by.. and months go by.. I know that as I grow the time just flies on by.. some say your memory fades or that your mind decays.. I think that all we need is just a bit more change.
All it takes is just one sunrise.. one sunset to reflect on life.. a breath to take the stress from the front to behind.. and a moment in time.. with the perfect light.. I think about the people that don’t got no rights.. and how it’s so easy at times, to completely lose sight.. by getting lost or getting caught up in the daily grind.. and I find at times, at times I find..
- 8. These Streets
These streets don’t lie.. the concrete has a story lined with cracks and broken glass.. hands reach out for what they can.. people run their race, some go slow and some so fast.. everybody has a different pace, in some cases this pace won’t last..
I met a women who was playing purple haze on a one-stringed violin.. she was standing next to a man who was shaking, waiting for his next fix of heroin.. he started begging me to set him free.. cause he couldn’t take the pain no more.. I mumbled something like change is pain.. and then headed up the street towards fourth. Now up at fourth I can hear a drum beat up on the corner were a crowd has formed.. I pick up the pace cause I wanna see the face of the person playing through this swarm.. six different buckets and some pots and pans, a couple makeshift stands a little-bitty can.. a red-headed kid with two sticks in hand, playing like he might never get to play again..
These streets don’t lie.. the concrete has a story lined with cracks and broken glass.. hands reach out for what they can.. people run their race, some go slow and some so fast.. everybody has a different truth, in some cases this truth won’t last..
Now I’ve been walking up and down these streets.. and nothing ever seems to change. There’s an aeresol can at the bottom of the wall.. for the artist that has no name.. there’s still a lot of folks bumming all of my smokes, and then looking at me like I’m strange.. I’m walking fast as I pass their hands, because I don’t got no more change..
- 9. The Next Ones to Come
There’s nothing wrong with the way that I am.. inflictions are the in-betweens of places to stand.. an avalanche for each of us to contend with as we go.. There’s nothing wrong with the way that you are.. the scars are to remind us all that life can be hard.. It’s hard to say where an earthquake starts to form..
There’s nothing wrong with the sea or the sun, see, it’s just a matter of thinking about the next ones to come.. the next ones to come.. the next ones to come.. we’ve got to think about the future for our daughters and sons.. There’s nothing wrong with the sea or the sun, see, it’s just a matter of thinking about the next ones to come.. the next ones to come.. the next ones to come.. we’ve got to think about the future for our daughters and sons..
Now there’s a difference in the prophets and kings.. just like the difference between.. the truth and a scheme.. who’s gonna pick you up after you’ve fallen down? There’s nothing wrong with a helping hand.. but there is with the greed.. that feeds all the scams.. hey to the governor, your never gonna bring I down..
There’s nothing wrong with the sea or the sun, see, it’s just a matter of thinking about the next ones to come.. the next ones to come.. the next ones to come.. we’ve got to think about the future for our daughters and sons.. There’s nothing wrong with the sea or the sun, see, it’s just a matter of thinking about the next ones to come.. the next ones to come.. the next ones to come.. we’ve got to think about the future for our daughters and sons..
- 10. Chasing Trains
When I was thirteen.. my father turned my brothers into amputees.. cause with an arm cut off, you’ve got the best chance to make the bread.. on the side of the sidewalk, with the other hand outstretched.. and it was made clear to me.. that as the daughter it would be, my responsibility to feed.. my mother and my father and my brothers.. by selling my body to strangers for dollars.. old folks.. strange folks.. telling me I’ve got to take off my clothes.. I hear them whispering ‘how much for her’ with my eyes closed tight, hoping that when the sun comes up I’ll have a new set, so that, I can cry.. or preying silently that I will die.. but I’ve got to see paradise at least one time, before I’m ever gonna go and close my eyes that tight..
But there ain’t no airplanes taking off, and if there is then.. they might as well be rocket ships, because there ain’t no tickets with my name on it.. to take me far away. There ain’t no trains leaving town today.. none with my name, none to take me far away.. i’d like to run into the sun, and forget why I even ever ran away..
Now I’m here on the floor on my knees, got this guy over me asking me if I’m clean, and not to use my teeth.. to make it quick.. because he’s got some flight to catch at six.. and as I’m doing these things he asks, trying to hold the vomit down.. I gasp for air and ask for death.. and think everything that’s so far away.. I’ve got to get away oh god I got to fly away..
But there ain’t no airplanes taking off, and if there is then.. they might as well be rocket ships, because there ain’t no tickets with my name on it.. to take me far away. There ain’t no trains leaving town today.. none with my name, none to take me far away.. i’d like to run into the sun, and forget why I even ever ran away..
Now I’m picking up, airplane ticket stubs.. fishing in the gutter with the new rain and the clutter.. pretend it’s my name on the front.. take out my pen.. and change the departure day and the month..
- 11. Home
The Pacific Northwest is were I take the deepest breaths.. it’s where the air is fresh.. I can feel it in my soul.. it’s a good place to rest, it’s where I call my home, it’s where I’ll raise my kids and where I’ll die when I get old.. more specifically I’m living on an island in the Sound.. you gotta take a boat, so it’s protected by the moat.. just a hop and a skip from the city it’s a short trip.. in to do a show or get some lacquer for my cabinets..
Stay long enough just to practice the fast pace.. then disappear back home from the rat race.. take in my breaths.. take in a sunset.. yes..
Home sweet home, sweet home.. got to get home.. Because there ain’t no air as fresh as in the Northwest.. Home sweet home, sweet home.. got to get home..
It’s where my garden’s growing and where people go to market in the morning for the cuts of all the plants that folks are cloning.. where the artist’s thrive, because it’s easy to hide.. and there’s always an abundance of the herb that people smokin’.. where the water meets the sky and the wind and the mountains.. you can sit and watch the weather pass you by.. and people stay away because they think it alway rains.. and that’s fine.. Home sweet home, sweet home.. got to get home.. Because there ain’t no air as fresh as in the Northwest.. Home sweet home, sweet home.. got to get home..
Now when I’m going strong and I’ve been gone to long.. going out on tour or going wherever.. when my pockets got no cash and I need to make it fast.. or need to write a song.. or just need to see some pieces.. well I got peace.. weather it’s in me.. or it’s just in the surroundings.. it’s still sweet.. it never tasted better than the sun on a spring day when every thing’s been blooming and I’m not running every which way..
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