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Two Faces and a Vase

by My Son Bison

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    Comes in hard sleeve with art by Philly paper cutout artist Joe Boruchow.

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1.
Confidential 02:47
Confidential are my contents. Consequence if I am open. I exist to keep a secret. I exist to keep a secret from you could say that that is all there is. That is all there is. That is all there is. What is love, if it is for objects? What is love, if it is for power? What is love, if it is for secrets? What is love, if it is a secret from you could say that that is all there is. That is all there is. That is all there is.
2.
Everything’s a blur I can’t sort out the figure from the ground I'm slurring all my words I can’t make out the singing from the sound But everything’s a choice so I guess I was choosing to stay down ‘til you said How quickly life changes, how soon we forget the hopelessness we felt before I used to be afraid of being alone, I’m not afraid anymore If everyday’s the same well why not stay in one place for so long Should I go where no one knows my name, my shame, I’m learning to move on But every place I go is the same as where I’m coming from since you said How quickly life changes, how soon we forget the hopelessness we felt before How quickly life changes, how soon we forget the emptiness we felt before I used to be afraid of being alone, I’m not afraid anymore I can’t remember just what it felt like to be me When I was younger, every time I find myself I leave How quickly life changes, how soon we forget the hopelessness we felt before How quickly life changes, how soon we forget the emptiness we felt before I used to be afraid of being alone I used to be afraid of being in love I used to be afraid, I didn't know, I'm not afraid anymore
3.
Hugo 03:57
hugo he goes holding his breath head on a step of a stoop in Philadelphia margo she goes spending her breath hauling a bed of roses to the curbside and the flowers cry cry To the fire I push my breath. Ash finds its way to the streets of Philadelphia. my ghost he goes catching his breath chasing the soot and smells to the curbside and the fire cries cries Where will we go when all that's left is what was put on earth to somehow kill us? My ghost is no thing that can be touched, and what is not felt is without substance. without substance without substance
4.
Seeking out a stable place to sleep we made our bed upon a pile of leaves and couldn't feel the fields underneath my skin is rough but darling i am weak you say you do not know where you belong or how to tell what's right from what is wrong or if we're closer to the end than the beginning or if the future will be so forgiving though i'm not supposed to want what i cannot have what i cannot have wants me to so what am i to do so you're not supposed to want what you do not have what you do not have wants you too so what are you going to do? though we're not the same as we were when we were younger that is not to say we're not still young but you know our days are numbered and all this time has passed and i am glad to see it going for what comes next and what comes left leads me to believe that everything we feel must be true you're for me and i am for you everything will fall into place
5.
VU 04:44
The VU was flashing The VU was flashing and though bombs were to small to be seen the fire could be felt. Born from febrile fixes the heat poured out her chest and sparks spread through the space between a breath and another breath. The VU was flashing The fire could be felt Born from febrile fixes and another Breath I left when You weren't looking Your face stuck in my head with prose of roses on my mind a message was sent I went on to the next stage You saw the smoke and followed there we held our rite hands and the heat spread within I left when You weren't looking A message was sent I went on to the next stage the heat spread Within She took me to her bedroom (where all good things take place) there we fought off want of sleep and fire was made
6.
XV 04:31
Imagine yourself in love again this time in love with me Feel yourself a fool again laughing along with me I'm not afraid to say it. I said it once before. See the sun through orange bedding this time in bed with me Fingers feeling through your pockets reaching for your keys I'm not afraid to say it. I've said it once before. It's about time I said I love you. It's about time I said it again. You suffocate at the same speed you fan the flames in me And as you age I will repay each breath as does a tree I'm not afraid to say it. I've said it once before. It's about time I said I love you. It's about time I said it again. It's about time I said I love you. It's about time I said it again.
7.
if you plan to become what you hate what you love will become you if you choose to conceal what you think what you feel will disclose you though we may never be the same you can be sure that nothing's really changed rearrange the memories you have it might seem strange but there's nothing to be sad about if you plan to forego what you doubt what you know will destroy you if you forget your past you got sold take it back no one owns you
8.
Only when we own every paper, every stone, will we find out what they are there for will we find out what we are here for And if nothing we should find to learn from the things we mined, they'll have taught us what they are there for they'll have taught us what we are here for Men condescending talk about their mother knowing full well the kinds of things they've done to her. Over dirty dead bodies buckled bruised and headless do we carve out our initials to remind us what our names are. Men condescending talk about their mother knowing full well the kinds of things they've done to her. As if her deafness were some sort of catalyst for the incisions they will place upon her wrists. And if nothing we should find to learn from what should remind us and if nothing we should find, they'll have taught us. They'll have taught us.
9.
Envelope 05:17
I will make myself ink on a page and bleed through the driest paper I will wrap myself in an envelope and hope that it finds you safely When you have me will you hold me up to the light to see if you can see through me before you tear me open like a letter cut through my wax and seal You can read me if you like you can try to make out the scribble all over my hands If you can see me through the ink and the lines could you tell me where I’m going or where I began I will find myself among the rocks living in a cave with the bears I will sleep all through the winter until all the snow has cleared And then I’ll come out into that summer sun and try to put it down in a letter And tell you about all of the things I’ve done and all of that beautiful weather But it’d be so much better if you could feel it for yourself so I’ll soak it up and save it until you come around It’d be so much simpler to sing what I see if I was living in a cave and couldn’t come out You can read me if you like If you can see me through the ink and the lines If you can make out the scribble all over my hands Could you tell me where I’m going or where I began You can read me if you like If you can see me through the ink and the lines if you can make out the map all over my face could you tell me where i’m going or where i was made You can read me if you like If you can see me through the ink and the lines If you can make out the scribble all over my hands Could you tell me where I’m going or where I began Could you tell me where I’m going could you tell me where I am
10.
Certainty 02:36
if this body is just a paragraph is my soul between the lines where can i lay my ink roots down where can i let my letters lie in each other we will find a home if this body is between parentheses does the pause preclude a home written in our earth-bound paragraph you might be lonely but i swear you're not alone

credits

released August 20, 2016

Dane Galloway - vocals, acoustic guitars, mandolin
Joel Gleiser - vocals, piano/prepared piano, clarinet
Nick Krolak - upright bass
Kirk Kubicek - drums, glockenspiel, other percussion

Featuring:
Alex Ariff - alto saxophone
Liz Ciavolino - harp
Noah Hocker - trumpet
Peter Oswald - cello
Mitch Sibson - trombone
Koofreh Umoren - trumpet


All songs written by Dane Galloway and Joel Gleiser
Engineered, mixed, and mastered by Ron DiSilvestro
Recorded at Forge Recording Studios
Art by Joe Boruchow ("Conversation")

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My Son Bison Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

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