new england paradigm shift

by Nat Lyon

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03:07
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credits

released May 1, 2013

nat lyon | instruments and vocals
recorded at the farmhouse, 2012-2013
chad matheny | mixing engineer
mastered at Dub Narcotic Studio | bob schwenkler
all songs copyright 2013

tags

license

all rights reserved
Track Name: for the people in cars on I-95
don't want to die on '95
(repeat at random intervals)
Track Name: gin and visions
late December and I'm standing on the runway
at the airport in Westerly
the pilot finally showed but he's got no socks

we took off in a whiteout blizzard in a Cessna 182
I think we hit a cormorant or two
(hey man, what was that?)
as the plane went down
I had to rethink my plan to rescue you from winter island madness
with gin and visions

you're sleeping in the very same bed
that your cousin drank himself to death in
on the Vineyard everyone has got a cousin just like that
you're hooking up with carpenters
living off tips from barista tip jars
gin and visions took me this far
away from you
Track Name: boat wright's daughter | north cove
I had to climb through your window
to see the skiff you made
barefoot in the snow
we've got nowhere to go

you're helping your dad at the boat wright shop
it's your living room
and he's the saddest man
even when he's drunk

I'll help you drag that skiff through the frozen marsh
then maybe we'll hold hands
my imagined plan
occasionally we'll stop at that place
where your mother was last seen
some time last spring
Track Name: field notes from the eastern uplands
a Brunton compass despite a broken mirror
guided us to a transect in the upland interior

magnetic poles and GPS codes
helped us superimpose a grid
across the curve of the the Uncasville quad
we worked in the rain
your boots were soaked through

we dug so carefully through topsoil and A/B strata
and I said something that made you smile

fighting Indians and the Army Corps
there was a knife fight on the site
but no one got hurt
but no one got hurt
we snuck away

we're telling stories using random numbers and microscopes
you wore my flannel shirt

but most of the time
you'd politely ignore me
while I worked out new taxonomies
sitting on the stump of a tree
calculating coefficients of similarity
between me and you
me and you
Track Name: pitched
pitched back and forth
on the ferry in Block Island Sound
heaved against the rail in an October gale
you grabbed by hand- said, "don't be scared"
then a car broke loose on the deck below

it wrecked everything
it wrecked everything
a panic attack made me jump from the ship
and I swam away

the Captain was pissed
another fucking Spalding Gray
radio calls to the Point Judith cops
and he called the Coast Guard
and as I swam away I thought I heard you say
"fucking go to hell"
but I couldn't tell
I rode on a soft swell

there would be questions
about my sanity

came upon some rocks
where I found three grey seals
we four spent a moonless night
watching red, blue, green lights
cruising back and forth, possibly looking for me
or maybe fishing for stripers

in the morning I swam to shore
I hitched a ride in my wet clothes
I did not call
found you working in the garden
didn't talk at all

there would be questions
there would be questions
Track Name: a fox sighting 1
a red fox barking at the edge of the halogen field
in his catchment zone, hunting field mice all night
unmolested by housing developments, predators, or children
because
the soccer moms don't want their babies
to get rabies
(so we run)

the dogs are biting at the door
'cause they want to go outside
but I won't leave the comfort of my
illuminated, illuminated, illuminated
corner of the world
Track Name: spoke
I saw your picture on Gawker
with a writer, a minor celebrity
some guy that wasn't me
he crashed his car, broke your nose
was arrested, it was a scene
a dose of karma, possibly irony

and I'm the last one
to get the joke
you're a bicycle wheel
and I'm just a spoke

I'm finally done with the sea
but the sea is not finished yet, with me
kayaks are racked and the lobster pots are neatly stacked
I briefly considered
a straight job

and I'm the last one
to get the joke
you're a bicycle wheel
and I'm just a spoke

I don't want to think about you any more
Track Name: nav chart
I heard you went to sea
left with the evening tide
prescription pills spilled across your navigational chart
of the Thimble Islands

I want to know what the Swedish flag knows
I'm the mossy stone that sinks when the gale blows
I want to be the burnt skin on your nose
some day I'll be the sand between your toes
some day I'll be the sand between your toes
some day I'll be the sand between your toes
some day I'll be the sand between your toes
Track Name: coefficients
a Brunton compass
with a broken mirror
somehow guided us
to a transect in the
upland interior

we worked in the rain
your boots were soaked through
and I said something
that made you smile

you wore my flannel shirt

you wore my flannel shirt

you wore my flannel shirt

but most of the time
you'd politely
ignore me
while I
worked out
new taxonomies
sitting on the stump
of a tree
calculating coefficients
of similarity
between
me and you
me and you
me and you
me and you
Track Name: ex-anthro
living at the edge of an outdated
topographical map
an ex-anthropologist walking his dogs
over granulated snow
they've all slipped the leash

mending our fences and tearing them down
every night is what the good
Swamp Yankees do

in a cold fallow field
counting stars
there's a jet overhead
blinking
blinking

blinking
blinking

pacing the farmhouse
but you lost the farm
you're wearing out floorboards
you're wearing out shoes
retire to the fire
clean your bottle and gun
re-reading field notes and VQR
checking on the family
they're safe in bed
but the ex-anthropologist
can't get to sleep yet
Track Name: new england paradigm shift
sun is up, Monday morning, latte in the kitchen
time to wake the dogs up
they're curled up like two cats again
wife's awake, head on straight, you're already running late
out the door, in the car
another fucking Monday
another fucking Monday

this might be the greatest day in history
or just another train wreck

your Volvo seems to know the way
it's driving automatically
leafy trees, ivy walls, it's almost a democracy
in at 9, out by 5, lots of time to day-dream
you're running, running home again
don't want to die on '95 (don't want to die on '95)

this may be your greatest victory
or just another train wreck

drink in hand, dishes done, thinking your life's brilliant
you thought you could buy a Chinese baby on the internet
winding down with the news, now that you're sedated
Chris Matthews won't rest until the GOP is bifurcated

this might be the best day in history
or just another train wreck

midnight comes and you're both done
heading to the bedroom
set the clock, hold you tight, and stare out at the full moon
a silent prayer, good-bye despair, I hope that you have nice dreams
Tuesday is the future 'cause Monday took the piss out of you

this may be life's greatest mystery
or just another train wreck