Minus The Bear Album

we don't have money
so we can't lose it
but you touching me like piano keys
you can't buy that movement

what do we get from
this soft transaction
we know the money lies
and you can't put a price on this brand of action

we're all just selling time
you got a lot to lose
the paper's a ticking clock
you got a lot to lose

what does it cost for
this life of excess
would you ever miss your desk's caress

there is no mouth to
trace it's shape on you
you seem to let it fuck you anyway

we're all just selling time
you got a lot to lose
the paper's a ticking clock
you got a lot to lose

What you got to lose?

"come on man," she said.
"we have to leave this town
i cant stand another day without the rain"

i said "we'll leave now,
you can pack our things
Let me get the bill and i can make it straight."
it was the same as yesterday.

we've been gone
and the miles stretched down the long road
we moved as fast as we could

through the heat of the desert
and the cruelty of that Buick's seat
just to keep on

that night we laid on the floor of the desert
but i could barely sleep, yea i had this dream
there was a man in a black car, with a man in th back seat
and i woke up in a cold sweat with her lying next to me

we've been gone
and the miles stretched down the long road
we moved as fast as we could

through the heat of the desert
and the cruelty of that Buick's seat
just to keep on

we sat on the corner of memphis and 53rd
as they filled the tank, we had a drink
she whispered, "let's get moving"

that night we night laid on the floor of the desert
but i still couldn't sleep.
there was man in a black in black car with a man in the back seat
i'd wake up in a cold sweat with her lying next to me

this is us on a western atlantic coast
with no place to be
just taking in the sea

tonight with a constant buzz
we're staring at the ocean crashing on
all the rocks below
in this foreign home

this old story
when we're gone i feel i'll never miss anyone
and you lay on the grass along the edge

"is this a dream,"
you ask and i don't say anything
because this may be a dream

and we come to this place
like two convicts that have escaped
from the prison of everyday
and for the moment we'll have our stay

this old story
when we're gone i feel i'll never miss anyone
and you lay on the grass along the edge

you know that tomorrow comes like disease to us

from this cliff's edge the gulls fly below us
diving into the sea below us
and i'm not cold tonight beside you, beside you
and we're not cold tonight

this old story
when we're gone i feel i'll never miss anyone
this old story
expatriate, you're coming home

A swimming pool with no bodies,
Is a problem that we can fix,
Dropped his clothes on the chase lounge and asked,
'Are you gonna come in?'
And in the night, the only light was the glow of the surface,
As they slid in, the rest of them, continued their talking,
And drinking,
They'll never notice us,

So this is the difference between,
Living and not living,
These are just bodies,
We have a purpose,
And the gravity,
Pulling us, from them, to we.

The Distance between our bodies,
Is a problem that we can fix,
They moved slow through the current and found,
Their bodies touching,
Her hands moved to pull him under,
For some kind of kiss,
As he slides in, the rest of them, continue their talking,
And drinkin'.

So this is the difference between,
Living and not living,
These are just bodies,
We have a purpose,
And the gravity,
Pulling us, from them, to we

he couldn't move
as seasoned as he was
there was something in this one
that was too much for him
he had a daughter
he hoped to live through
four years old, ten years reach to this girl

please let my girl go without knowing what i know
don't let her read this day on my face when i come home

detective, take note of all you've seen
like her hand still holding the smallest leaf
the neck angled too far from her body
and he body's position at the base of this tree

please let my girl go without knowing what i know
don't let her read this day on my face when i come home

he wrote measurements on a pad of paper
noted each bruise and abrasion
how could this happen
to a girl so young

please let my girl go without knowing what i know
don't let her read this day on my face when i come home

midnight on a beach in the mediterranean
and i miss you
even here, taking it all in
the sand's silver carries the moon on it's shoulders
is it possible to put this night to tune and give it to you?

don't cry i'll bring this home to you
if i can make this night light enough to move
don't cry i'll bring this home to you

cargo ships move by, tracing on the horizon line
there's a luster from the city lights on the waves that kiss our feet
and we're thinking of going in
the time's getting thin

don't cry i'll bring this home to you
if i can make this night light enough to move
don't cry i'll bring this home to you

this is a city for not sleeping, the clocks are set by feel
at this moment from where i sit, nothing here seems real

don't cry i'll bring this home to you
if i can make this night light enough to move
don't cry i'll bring this home to you

feel the earth under your feet
and walk foot follows foot into the sea
watch your step, read the sign
learn to swim or learn to sink
or stand with the ocean to your neck and sunken feet

you're the mask on my face
at the masquerade painted black
you can take a place and a table if they even let you in

feel the earth and dig it up and put yourself in the hole
when the tide comes in you'll never feel anything again
you know how a finger folds
and you know what you need to breathe
our hands catch on everything
when we're not asleep

i drive too fast at night
because accidents happen to other men
and not me

walk into the sea

its cold and snow's actually on the ground of this no-snow town.
and instead of cars, street's trafficking in sleds.
men become boys again.
and there's a war on the corner with no guaranteed winner.
its just a snow fall of snow balls, evidence of the winter.

And i can feel my hands again.
we're almost home.

it's 2 pm and our snow is falling still as our good city lay still.
and our friends are packed around some no smoking bar
warming on alcohol.
we step into the silence, yeah, we step slowly and quiet.

All boys come on and girls join up
just don't grow old.
All boys come on and girls join up
we're almost home

This is all we want:
Time to be with us,
a home to lift the cold.

Still cold, the snow's turning into rain and melting away.
All these days slip by us
so let's keep them

i saw her with another man walking downtown
she's not mine and she'll never be by my side walking downtown

i've only met her once before
she was alone in a back booth
a drink and a cigarette
smoking like she was waiting for someone
me stealing glances as she stole my breath
the next one's on me

may i take this seat
the rest of the bar reciedes
we talked on traveling back roads overseas
"Girl, a change sounds good to me"
she said,
"who can find that kind of time?"

i'd only met her once before
she was alone in a back booth
a drink and a cigarette
drinking like she was waiting for someone
me stealing glances as she stole my breath
the next one's on me

and after it's done
the sun comes up and she's gone
after it's done
you just move on
a night can show what's made plain by the sun

i'd only met her once before
she was alone in a back booth
a drink and a cigarette
smoking like she was waiting for someone
me stealing glances as she stole my breath

it's been so long that it seems
like i've never been to the san juans
can we go soon?
girl slow down
girl slow down with me

if we leave now we can catch the last boat out
and that's the best one on this clear night
under pin-prick light

the wind on the boat's deck is a cold hand on the neck
or slipping into our cold bed

it's been so long that it seems
that i've never danced with anyone
she moves so
she moves so well

if we go outside we can take in a haze of Roche Harbor light
drink a bottle of red wine
forgetting to tell time
just sit still
we've moved enough

the wind on the boat's deck is a cold hand on the neck
or slipping into our cold bed

When I turned the page
The corner bent into a perfect dog-ear
as if the words knew I'd need them again,
but at that time I couldn't see it.
I would read that page everyday for the next year.

She sang a short tune.
And I came from her soft touch and slept.

We sat on a shoreline watching wind scalp the white off the waves.
Sitting on a shoreline, and if I could do it, I'd dog-ear this page.
We spoke about growing old and filling the future's empty stage.

I hope the weather holds,
but you don't need the sun to make you shine.
These island towns don't care for city folk,
but I think we can starve the city from our minds.

I know we won't want for much,
It's just me and you and a bed and a shoreline