1. |
Felt
05:13
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All I’ve ever tried to say
is that I think I’m going insane,
I just haven’t found a way
to articulate it clearly.
I’ve been jailed in the arms of men,
confined by the shelter they lent,
impaled in their basements,
hollowed out and primed again.
I’ve wished to say
I tried my best
so I could put this thing to bed,
but all I pray
is not to die alone.
Alone.
I’ve been leaning on the edge again,
I’m still falling for the wrong men.
I’ve been thinking about everything I felt.
I felt.
All I ever wanted was
to feel like I was loved,
but nothing ever measures up
in this well that I’ve dug.
Lately it seems the world could end,
(A cursed fog is settling on land)
I’m losing faith in Man more often.
(Swollen winds twist and bend)
Where will that leave me when I’m dead?
(I have always been one of these men)
Will they say I was mad?
I’ve wished to say
I found my peace
in this anonymity,
but I still pray
that I don’t die alone.
Alone.
I’m still reeling from the whole of it,
it’s been more painful than I can admit.
I can’t fathom how I must’ve felt.
Felt.
So let’s just say I gave it all that I could,
and that’s enough
to get me through another lonely day,
today.
I’ve been clinging to the past again,
I’m still fighting for the wrong man.
I’ve been drowning in everything I felt.
I felt.
If I ever find a way
to get out of my head, I’ll be saved.
If I ever find a way, I’ll be saved.
I’ll be saved.
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2. |
Torture The Dead
04:16
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Immobilized permanently,
we languish in waves
remembering our dreams.
Snow muffled sounds
on streets lined with lights,
where men let you drown
so they can survive.
Love can be so beautiful
and so sad,
it can kill the dying
and torture the dead.
Allegorized space in between
the half and the hold,
a parasitic dream.
Palatial mounds
of flesh against night.
A longing abounds,
but dawn’s just outside.
Love can be so beautiful
and so sad,
it can kill the dying
and torture the dead.
Even though the heart may stall
in solitary lands,
allow it to keep mending,
for life lies ahead.
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3. |
A Snowfall at Dusk
05:06
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I crawl through the sinking sun
and seep into the night,
and I can feel a storm rising,
storms rise all the time.
Orphans scrambling along a parapet,
touching the axon of a latent wish.
I tremble still when I think of that,
the moment I found out what I am.
After you’ve known love
you can never go back,
and the heart never blooms
when there’s snow on its tracks.
We were soft and unafraid,
huddled in rapturous youth.
Every moment squalling through
led us closer to the truth.
A man who lurched through like a saint,
a mouth that tumbled half awake,
a feeling I still conjure now.
In my dreams I still see you around.
When you’re left alone,
you can muddy up the path.
And the heart needs a crutch
if you dare to look back.
Maybe tonight I will survive
the storm my heart moves through,
if only I could love myself
the way I once loved you.
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4. |
Invocations
05:20
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Invocations of dormant empathy
resurrect the joy you sowed in me.
The papers all read
that you fell asleep in death,
but these assemblies in my head
belie their every sentiment.
With a fervent desire
I built your house by the sea,
with walls of glass
and a roof of masonry.
Innovations of grave perversity
summon all the hope that’s left in me.
The caving of my chest,
once a heaving hearth of flesh
mantled by abandoned debts,
governs over every breath.
With a fervent desire
I built your house by the sea,
with walls of glass
and a roof of masonry.
Interpolations of honeyed memories
gather all the life you left with me.
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5. |
Boulder
04:16
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I’m still a boulder,
never set off rolling, trembling, and free.
Never chiseled out to see
how smooth and wise I could’ve been.
If I chased security
in the face of scored immortality,
would I fear the fall of time
to find my gilded place among the heap?
Ghosts surround me,
they’re draped from every branch on every tree.
They summon me to lay
my weary body out with them constantly.
Dereliction hovers
threateningly over almost everything.
If I cleared myself of doubt,
would I be rid of this wordless ennui?
Ropes bind me
to this old house that you left long ago.
If I root into its soil
will I grow cold, childless, and alone?
I’ve struggled to trust in the bouts
of glorious conviviality.
I’ve stitched my faith in disbelief,
‘cause I’ve learned things are never what they seem.
I’m never leaving this damn house!
I’m never leaving this damn house!
I’m never leaving this damn house!
I’m never leaving this damn house!
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6. |
An Augury of Hope
05:14
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In my youth I may have sworn
on the resistance of my hand,
but the veil of age shifts back
to show I could be loved again.
A refusal to be damned
could unearth the warmth
of man again.
And it’s a long, long way from a fire escape
in the neon-soaked light of the halcyon days
to the solemn amber glow
dressing these evening fields,
that find me wandering still.
After every drift climbs tall,
that’s when I must lay down my arms
to honor every step I’ve known
that led me safely through these storms.
The nights are still long,
but the snow will withdraw
in the end.
And it’s a long, long way from a fire escape
in the neon-soaked light of the halcyon days
to the solemn amber glow
dressing these evening fields,
that find me wandering still.
With a glint of faith in an inchoate stage,
the persistence of those alleged halcyon days
spare a final thought to me just before I go.
They say, “One day, I’ll tell you what I know.”
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7. |
Body Gets Stoned
03:18
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My father said, “Son, of my word take heed.
They’ll try to confuse and they’ll try to deceive.
Here’s what you must do, you must let them conceive.
Let all of the foolish things be as foolish as they need.”
Every body gets stoned
and every one is dethroned.
Now we have no place to go,
so let’s all just go home.
On top of a hill stood one silent star
screaming for the light but damned to the dark.
He flew determined, like a baby unmaimed,
like the curse in his eyes, like a god without a name.
Every body gets stoned
and every one is dethroned.
Now they’ve left us all alone,
so let’s all just get stoned.
My father said, “Son, he’ll use your hole to breed.
You must scorn the condemned before they’re worth conquering.
You must let all of the wretched things succeed
the filth in his gut, the curse in his seed.”
Every body gets stoned
and every one is dethroned.
Now they’ve left us all alone,
so let’s all just get stoned.
My son, he won't holler.
He shall never feign greed.
For I shall turn round
and never have peace.
Every body gets stoned
and every one is dethroned.
Now we have no place to go,
so let’s all just get stoned.
Every body gets stoned,
every body gets stoned,
every body gets stoned.
Every one is stoned.
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8. |
I Didn't Live There
06:50
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I cast my mind back
to a cornfield in South Bend, Indiana.
I realize now that
every day blossomed glory or disaster.
I was ripe with devotion then,
fireflies hung in our eyes.
We were 700 miles from home,
sloughing off cigarettes and pride.
I was only passing through,
could’ve landed anywhere.
Yes, I stayed a year or two,
but I didn’t live there.
On the edge of spring
we settled on a rooftop in Manhattan.
Weary from traveling,
the soles of our feet were scored and blackened.
I was soft with elation then,
he was draped across my mind.
We’d drift down sidewalks at 3AM
soaked in bourbon and moonlight.
I was only passing through,
could’ve landed anywhere.
Yes, I stayed a month or two,
but I didn’t live there.
The blood of time is on my hands.
Reveries dance through greyed vignettes.
Dissonance can drown these revelations now.
Evocations of the past are roped to what wouldn’t last.
I was only passing through,
could’ve landed anywhere.
Yes, I stayed a week or two,
but I didn’t live there.
I’ve never been as bold
as I was with him under that line of river lights.
I slipped my hand under his sweater
and sighed a slow and sad, “Goodnight.”
I could never feel so sad again,
and it could never feel so right.
I could never feel like that again,
youth twists fear into delight.
I was only passing through,
could’ve landed anywhere.
Yes, I stayed a day or two,
but I didn’t live there.
I am only sorting through
these shards of memory to share.
I really must be going soon.
You know, I never lived there.
Other people live in our apartments now.
They’ve rearranged our walls
and trampled hallowed grounds.
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Eric Terino
Tapping into the rich timeless history of romance and poetics past, Eric Terino’s musical landscape paints a portrait of an American artist with a sweeping perspective on what it means to be human. The deeply personal becomes universal and heartbreak can be transformed to healing. This potential for alchemy exists everywhere, and his serenaded solitude reminds us of the infinite beauty in it all. ... more
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