1. |
The Steeplejack
04:32
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The Steeplejack
Like a cartoon horse in a children’s book just plodding along
(Underneath the hot sun)
The promise is the stick and the carrot is the song
(We got ourselves a live one)
I believe in a little bit...
Home-baked and elevated but not for long
(Sorry sugar—he’s spun)
The steeplejack can only climb so high
Before he gotta push the bricks aside
He says he ain't afraid of heights he lies
It's all he thinks about-- all day
And all night long…
Heads up in a little bit see the gloves will come off
(He’s fightin' against the big-time)
Can’t spit for spite without that hacking cough
(He's righting every slant rhyme)
I believe in a little bit...
Lost interest feeding from the bottomless trough
(Look who’s moved the goal lines)
I believe in a little bit…
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2. |
My Mother's Side
05:43
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My Mother’s Side
48 years ago on March 26th
A branch bent toward her door and it splintered to sticks
The splinters arranged in the form of a fence
And I’ve been trying to scale that thing ever since
When I was born I came out of my mother’s side
Now dreams can be explained but I will leave that to the sages
And stories remain long after you read the pages
They say a weight that is placed can be lifted again
But I’ve been trying to get out from mine ever since then
When I was born I came out of my mother’s side
Some people swing the pendulum some read the chart of the hand
Some people play it safe some people give up the band
The time to stay focused well you see that it came and it went
So darling pull up the covers and remain in the tent
When I was born I came out of my mother’s side
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3. |
Parlor Tumbler
03:40
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You’re a streak—across the sky
And then you’re gone—without ever asking why
Me I’m a follower—no I don’t make no sound
It’s not so hard—if you spin and roll when you hit ground
You see me flip—but don’t worry, petal, I turn out fine
I just bite my lip—and learn to turn on a dime
Parlor tumbler
You feel the wave you roll with it
Parlor tumbler
In unison you rejoin the kit
The highs they are so high—genetically predisposed I guess
To fly—but the lows —to draw the curtains closed is best
You’re a streak—across the sky
And then you’re gone—without ever asking why
Parlor tumbler
Change approach and fall like sleep
Parlor tumbler
Roll with the foundation creep
Me I’m a follower—no I don’t make no sound
You see me flip—but don’t worry, petal, I turn out fine
The highs they are so high—genetically predisposed I guess
You’re a streak—across the sky
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Tuff Sunshine New York
"Play Loud!"--New York Times
"Cool NYC trio Tuff Sunshine does emotive indie fare that
skillfully fuses funky soul with wiry postpunk." --Time Out NY
"NYC Band You Oughta Know" -- Stagebuddy.com
"New Band of the Day" -- Louder Than War Blog (UK)
"Yinz guys are soooo awesome" --Guy in Pittsburgh
... more
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