Anchormen, Aweigh! XVII
The forthcoming CD, Nation of Interns, isn't even done yet, but the Anchormen have already written four new songs! Before you know it, we'll have another record's worth of material ready. Here are the new songs we almost completed last night. They're about 99% finished, I think.
Do we ever really know if we've found the one we're looking for, or do we just get tired and stumble home? Do we ever really care about the places where we spend our time, or are they just containers for the air that we breathe, and the water that we drink, and the dreams that we dream with the coming of the sleep, and the songs that always get sung when the bars are closed and we're walking home? Evacuation, oh, happy Evacuation Day. You've got to get out while the getting's good. Your reputation, your reputation can't be saved. Do we ever really claim the prizes that we're fighting for, or do the felt ears come off in the rain? Do we ever really heal from little scars in little wars, or are they just an outline of the pain that we feel when we're walking down your street, and the books that we read while we're eating our last meal, and the songs that always get sung when the blinds are drawn and we're home alone?
Harrison Avenue Overpass
I'm on the Harrison Avenue Overpass, watching the sun set behind the Pru, and the bridge below me is shaking and quaking as the commuter rail pushes through. And the cranes behind me are bending their necks as they life their heads high as my hopes. And the sky is turning purple as my heart. And I am reminded how great I am not.
She's sick: That's what her family says. Just like her mother, counting down the days. Please fix: I seek repair. I am so, so tired, just like damaged hair. She's sick, and I don't know what to say. She's sick, and she's always going away. She's sick; I guess that's the price that I've got to pay. She is sick. She's sick: That's what the doctor says. No chance of improvement; limited recovery.
Trapped in the Basement
We broke in through a window and climbed into the house. We were all tippy toe and dodgeball. We had to check it out. But then we saw the flashlight coming down the stairs so we ducked into a closet; we were feeling pretty scared. Now we are trapped in the basement. Got to get out!