1. |
Automatic
03:22
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Take the interstate to the outerbanks; we can leave tonight if you don’t want to wait until morning hits your eyes. You can grab the bags and I’ll grab the keys, I can drive all night and you can fall asleep, as I hum along these highway lullabies.
Time will tell and time has told too well.
It’s automatic when you say. It’s automatic when you call my name: I feel it.
It’s the shape you take when you move with grace, unknowingly setting the perfect scene to paint; you are the perfect song to sing. These are the terrible mathematics of our love: Where one and one makes one and two wrongs, for once, they make a right.
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2. |
The Problem Is Me
04:35
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Wait! Wait! I think I’m losing face with no regard for a leaking faith; with no regard for You. I’m still trying to climb a stair but it’s a ten foot wall with a three foot ladder. I’m still trying to earn the accolades and praise and fame I don’t need.
It’s not that this town’s too small for me, it’s that I’m just too small to believe that the problem is me.
I’m a saint and I’m a sinner, and experienced beginner. I’m a paradox of terms. In terms, I’m an already but not yet. I’m confidently confident. But, then again, I swear I know: I’m far too young to be this jaded. I’m far too old to be this optimistic. I’m learning how to let me go and throw away the things I don’t need.
Wait! Wait! It’s time I learned my place. I’ve travelled far too long at this ignorant pace. Grandstanding far too long and you: patiently, though I look just like the world; faithfully, though I’m anything but a hero, consistent, persistent; though I’m learning how to crawl.
I’m still trying to get this through my head, learning hard that grace isn’t elegant. Learning hard the distance between everything I know I should be and everything I am.
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3. |
Only A Pop Song
03:12
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Take your record, take your tape, take your MP3. Does it pop, does it bang, Does the hook hook me? Always? Never? Paint a picture with words of your vain debauchery. Frame your empty, nihilistic philosophies. In a 4/4 blackout, change the fuse and cut the MTV.
If la-la-la-la was all I said, you’d still hum along and bop your head. The radio says, after all, “It’s only a pop song.”
The only thing that seems consistent to me is a perpetual state of temporary honesty. Always? Never? Who needs a soul when you’ve got sex, and drugs, and rock and roll? Heading home to Sheol, but just look at my blue suede shoes!
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4. |
A Good Thing
03:14
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Love, you’ve been a grace and redemption; a very picture and reflection of things pure and beautiful. Love, you’ve been a lesson in forgiveness. Unrelenting, relentless, and your kiss; it falls like honey on my lips.
The myths they told of old never spoke of this. My heart is too small to hold and to handle this. I’m losing all control and maybe that’s a good thing. (I am yours, you are mine, and there’s no doubt about it)
Love, it would be an understatement to say that this was unexpected and your entrance grabbed a hold upon my soul. Love, these words can barely start describing. That doesn’t mean I’m going to give up trying. I’ll die with “love” professed upon my lips.
It’s more than just in my head, it’s more than a dream, and it’s more than just an ordinary love you give me.
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5. |
Waiting
03:31
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Well, I guess that it’s all I’ve got tonight; all I’ve got left to hold onto. It’s just stereotypical me to wait until the bottom falls out. And I stand assuming my innocence but it’s not as clear as it may seem to me. This is my testimony. This is my story and my song.
All these things and I’m still waiting.
Press play/repeat and you’ll see exactly wait I mean. I swear I’m a broken record on a broken stereo: But I’m still coming through in mono. You say we can end this all tonight, hit the last chord and play a new song. I shrug my shoulders “well, I guess that that’s okay.” But silly me is content with just a key change.
Sometimes it’s time to shut your mouth: hit the last note, put the guitar down. I’m learning how to stop the show.
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6. |
Tapestry
04:41
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I mourn the loss of innocence that never existed in the first place. I shed a tear for all the things that I’ve done wrong. But I was conceived in sin, I was born into it and it never has left me alone. This death and disease, this monster I feed, is more than I could have known.
But you so easily and so gracefully weave this all together
In a tapestry of all these things I’ll never know and I’ll never see. It’s more than I can get my head around. Now, I think that to some degree it will always be some kind of mystery. It’s more than just an understatement that everything keeps coming back to you.
I look back now and I can see so clearly: You, and there is no question. But still, I question: “will I fall and make a fool out of myself? And a fool out of you?”
This time with you and all these notions; there is no motion that I cannot see your hand. I’m amazed at the way you take these broken, bloody hands I cannot raise. You take these chains, and you take my place.
It’s all so clear.
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7. |
Gravity
04:29
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You are my Gravity, my one sure thing that I can rest my head on. You are the only thing I know is sane in this crazy world. Keep me from faltering with every breeze in this windblown, aching town.
You are my Gravity and I’m not scared, though I know my own heart all too well to stand with confidence on these two feet. I’ve learned the glorious futility in all of my vanity and selfish things: reined in by Gravity.
Mark my words, I will drop my arms and lose it all if you don’t hold them up and hold me down.
You are my Gravity and all I have tonight; you’re all I have for life.
You are my Gravity.
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The Separate Dunn, North Carolina
The Separate is:
Tim Inman-Guitar/Vocals/Keys
Brett Phillips-Guitar/Keys/Vocals
Kevin Angier-Drums
Russ Lockamy-Bass/Vocals
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