Get all 11 Blind Pelican releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Let the Sun Take the Blame, Reuptake, Our Venereal Days, East Freedom, Woundwood / Blind Pelican, Blind Pelican / Brandon Schmitt, Blind Pelican & Artie Appleseed, A Relative Term / Blind Pelican, and 3 more.
1. |
Reuptake
04:00
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Let the sun take the blame.
The freedom of thermal gain.
And freedom to remember without fear
of suffering for what I remember.
Those infant years
of liberation,
free from knowing who we were
or what we’d become.
No one yet strung out
or disappeared or runaway.
No one yet denied
this low-grade ecstasy of light.
The freedom of thermal gain.
Let the sun take the blame.
Is this freedom to not remember
the basic bruise of missing my friends?
Or is it selective
serotonin
reuptake
inhibition
or lazy thinking
or vitamin D
or microdoses
of LSD?
Enclosure of light
sets me free to remember.
The freedom of being invited.
The freedom of never having to leave.
No one dead and no one gone.
No one yet denied
the freedom of thermal gain.
Let the sun take the blame.
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2. |
Right of Way
02:35
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Pay attention.
The signal’s changing.
The pulse. The breath.
One’s sense of being.
Pay attention.
Your gramma’s A-frame
is being bulldozed to expand the drive-way.
(one pulse. one breath.)
So pay attention:
being in one’s own senses.
The signal’s changed.
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3. |
Woundwood's Exit
03:41
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Let’s call it avalanche.
Let’s call it something grey like fear.
Let’s call it what it is.
Or maybe it’s a sulfur burn.
Maybe it’s a sour belch of wine.
Either/or.
Is survival too strong a word?
Is this mountain pass too long?
Is anywhere anywhere you want to be?
Let’s call it coming clean
without having to say anything to anyone.
Because survival’s too strong a word
And this mountain pass is way too long.
‘Cause everywhere isn’t anywhere we want to be.
And that’s giving up.
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4. |
The Carolinas
04:17
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it’s spread again
bloated face smiles
on our backs sweet green grass
the carolinas
the last three years
a starlit dim sun shines
always brighter
the day
before
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5. |
Intern (for Matthew)
04:36
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Something dreamlike and lovely, how the IV’s hollow tip submerges so purposefully into the back of T’s right hand.
“Time was, I’d see a group of boys on the street, any boys, really, with their hands and their laughter, enjoying themselves real loud, claiming as theirs the whole sidewalk, and I’d look at them coming and wonder, Is this it? Is this the time?”
T smiles at the nurse, teeth white and straight.
“Never know, is it more foolish to be afraid or not be afraid?”
Or anyway, what teeth are left.
“Like, TV violence is still violence, you know? It being cliché don’t make it any less real.”
But the nurse is already gone, moved on, replaced by somebody else. The dreamish needle burnishing all edges:
“Never thought it’d ever actually be the time.”
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