1. |
While the Weather Waits
04:20
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Another song, another stage,
It’s not the same, but it’s not that strange,
Am I coming down or just come of age?
Don’t know the answer, but I feel it all the same,
Well, some days sing, some are far too late,
Some are quiet, like they never came,
Sometimes I just watch ‘em fly away,
And bide my time while the weather waits,
I can’t shake the fading past,
Clings like a phantom, never answers when I ask,
Still I can’t make a mem’ry last,
The amber of this moment wears me like a mask,
I may be tied by string, but I cannot stay,
Another hour is just an hour away,
There’s no use making what won’t be made,
I’ll bite my tongue while the weather waits,
Well, some days sing, some are far too late,
Some are quiet, like they never came,
Sometimes I just want to fly away,
But I’ll bide my time while the weather waits,
Another song, another stage,
It’s not the same, but it’s not that strange…
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2. |
Lithic Shores
02:08
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I wish I’d write a song that would get me out of here,
The hollow’s just too heavy, I’ve been holding it for years,
And I got so close to fighting, but I folded into fear,
I wish I’d write a song that would get me out of here,
I wish that my apartment was a place that I’d call home,
Been trying to rise above it, but I’m sinking like a stone,
And I’m no good together, but I’m even worse alone,
I wish that my apartment was a place that I’d call home,
I wish that I could write a song to help me get to sleep,
Keep clawing at the surface, but the anchor dragged me deep,
What I’m too scared to fight for, well, the ocean’s got to keep,
But every song sounds better when you write it in your sleep,
Yeah, every song sounds better when you write it in your sleep.
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3. |
Therianthropy
03:02
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I treat this body with contempt,
It's never done me any favours,
Peel back the parts that didn't fit,
They just reveal another layer
That I don't want to peel anymore,
'Cause there's no going back to the way I was before,
The line's going slack, and the rope is getting frayed,
And I've got nothing good to say,
But I'll keep talking out my ass,
I'll keep singing like I mean it,
Making promises that last,
Well when's the last time that you've seen it?
And I don't want to feel anymore,
But I don't want to feel like I'm closing the door
On my friends, on what I love, on what I'm not thinking of,
'Cause nothing's never been enough,
I treat this body with contempt,
It's not the one I would've wanted,
It's just the fog 'tween passing ships,
A crowded house that I have haunted,
And I just want to heal,
And I just want to feel,
I don't know what I want, I just want it to be real.
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4. |
The Ride Home
02:12
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Coming down the highway to the city that we know,
A place we once called home,
Before we left it,
On and on and on again, along the same old road,
The lines between us show the way we’re fretted,
And there’s no way to stop the song we’re playing,
It doesn’t even matter what we’re saying,
All that matters now, with all that’s falling down,
Is finding time to keep these lines from fraying,
I’ve got another good one from a band you might’ve heard,
I know every word, just thought I’d share it,
We’ve only got an album’s length from here to there,
But anywhere’s enough, if you can spare it,
Some songs are too precious to be traded,
Memories too hazy to be faded,
All that matters now is the time that we’re allowed,
The music and the mem’ry as we made it,
All that matters now is the time that we’re allowed,
The music and the mem’ry we created.
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5. |
Lead Paint
03:19
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A statue of canadiana;
60s pride and joy,
Cracked paint and poison ivy
And the edifice destroyed,
Not every home's abandoned,
But there's more down every day,
The few that go on living
Are all fading into grey,
The old times were the best times,
Least the best they'd ever been,
The forest that surrounds them,
Stretched beyond eternity,
When the mines run dry, these old towns die,
The ravens claim the rest,
The bones of all the buildings
Never more than passing guests,
I stayed there just one summer,
Never felt the winter's breath,
A dream of green and ivory's
All the mem'ry I've got left,
Never saw the last man standing,
I don't have the heart to know,
Just another starving mining town
In north Ontario,
The old times were the last times,
Least the last they'd ever see,
The windows gone from gold to black,
The rest have gone to green,
The ivy claims what still remains,
The ravens claim some more,
Soon no one will remember
All the ghosts that've gone before,
The town is far from starving,
Though the ivy still grows green,
They had near to 5000,
Least they did 2016,
There's nothing to a living truth
That no one's going to use,
But I could sell a dying lie
If I could make it bruise,
The old times are the best times
When you carve them into song,
When you sell them as a story,
Even when the story's wrong,
And I can see the ivy,
And the ravens and the rot,
That's just what I remember,
I don't know what I forgot.
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6. |
Where We Left Off
02:40
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Hard to say who’s to blame
When no one takes a side,
Far away yesterdays,
We never did decide
Just who it was we’re supposed to be,
And where it was we thought that we were going,
And there’s no light to guide our way,
It’s hard to see the stars out when it’s snowing,
Hard to stay, with all that’s changed,
And all we’ve said and done,
All the same, I can’t complain,
We had a good run,
But we both know the trail’s gone cold,
The only thing I know is it’s getting colder,
The going’s slow, we’re miles from home,
And both of us have burdens we can’t shoulder,
But not tonight, stay inside,
The hollow where we hide is snowing over,
Stay the night, if it's alright,
Tomorrow we can try and talk this over.
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7. |
Waterweaving
03:30
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Washed out on an autumn day,
Black and blue and faded grey
Rain that never makes it to the ground,
String and strand connecting me,
Strained against the atrophy,
Never feel the snap when I'm unwound,
And the sun never makes it down,
And the song never makes a sound,
Pins and needles push and prod,
Static snow, too cold to rot,
Test for weakness, begging for a break,
But nothing breaks, it only bends,
Ouroboros without end,
A paralytic, petrifying state,
And the sun never makes it down,
And the song never makes a sound,
Washed out on an autumn day,
Black and blue and faded grey,
Wond'ring if I ever say too much,
String and strand dissecting me,
Strained against the apathy,
Knowing that I'll never say enough,
'Cause there's nothing left to say.
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8. |
Petrichor Blues
04:08
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Petrichor blues,
What are you coming to?
Are you waiting on the wind,
Until you pass this way again?
Swept upon a summer morn,
Crawl across a sullen storm,
And fall on those deserving of a rhyme and of a word,
Petrichor blues,
What are you gonna do?
Something simple as a song
Shouldn't have to wait this long,
Waiting for a summer rain
To swallow me and wash away
The barbed wire and the minefield keeping all of you away,
And I don't know what I was waiting for,
The rain, the words, the tune inside my head,
All of that's around me, and I never thought to move,
No one needs a sad song anyway,
Petrichor blues,
What's it mean to you?
When all is said and done,
What's it worth to anyone?
Another song without a home,
Another word that no one knows,
This transient existence shouldn't be so complicated,
And I should know when I should stop,
Pack up this guitar and go to sleep,
But after every storm, the faintest trace of petrichor,
Maybe I'm playing just for me,
Maybe I’m playing just for me.
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Ryan Knowles Toronto, Ontario
When not writing third-person bios about himself, Ryan Knowles plays the bass guitar and piano with some level of proficiency and haphazzardly stumbles around the guitar. He is most at home writing lyrics or stories or just playing for the hell of it, and decided it might be a good idea to just put some of the songs he writes out there. Enjoy, or don't. It's your call. ... more
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