Personnel:
Greg Goldman – acoustic and electric guitars, bass guitar, keyboards, vocals, percussion, sequencing.
Adam Darlin – drums on tracks 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11.
Jim Johanson – drums on tracks 3 and 12.
Brandi Parker – electric guitars on track 2.
Kevin Shima – drum recording engineer on all songs, guitar consultant on track 4.
Drums recorded at Hocking College, Nelsonville, OH.
Greg Goldman’s performances recorded at Cedar Studios, The Plains, OH.
Brandi Parker’s performances recorded at Astoria Blvd Studios, New York, NY.
Mixed by Greg Goldman at Cedar Studios.
Mastered by PJ Golden, Stereotype Records Mastering, L.A.
Cover photo taken by Greg Goldman.
Cover design and layout by Brandi R. Parker.
All songs written by Greg Goldman between 1995 and 2007.
Special thanks to Liz Davis Goldman, Kevin Shima, Brandi Parker, Adam Darlin, Jim Johanson, and Ken Dean.
℗ © Greg Goldman 2007
The Moon’s Elated
It’s never that easy;
you’ve got to tune your soul way out.
Oscillating
between the force of your descent
and the moon’s elated
hold on you that pulls you upward.
Of course it’s sating
to sit and lay it all right out.
Don’t you care about yourself
enough to hold on to this feeling that you’ve got,
when you believe that you’ve got
another chance, another chance to stop?
Absently
is the way you wear your heart.
It’s alright,
until you fall right out of the saddle.
That’s when you just lay there
and wait for someone to pull yourself up.
Of course we hate it;
we’re aligned against the stars.
Don’t you care about yourself
enough to listen to these feelings that you’ve got?
Can you believe in something else
without yourself, accept yourself or not?
Don’t you care about yourself
enough to hold on to this feeling that you’ve got,
when you believe that you’ve got
another chance, another chance to stop?
It’s never that easy.
It’s never that easy.
It’s never that easy.
Amazed
You’re switching up your name.
You’ve got another phase to get onto,
and this time you are all made up for sure.
So we stand up straight,
and try to brace ourselves the best we know,
and try to steal a smile when their backs are all turned.
Another day you
might have believed a little less.
Yet there stand you,
shining all around.
Into the fire,
into the blazing lights we go.
With not so much as a pause you
raise yourself right up.
I’m nothing short of amazed.
There’s not another face beneath there.
You all-powerful, you all-knowing, all-love.
Another day you
might have believed a little less.
Yet there stand you,
shining all around.
Into the fire,
into the blazing lights we go.
With not so much as a pause you
raise yourself right up.
You’re switching up your name.
You’re switching up your name.
You’re switching up your name.
Fine Tooth
I want you to see behind you.
I want you to see below.
From out at the tree to lying here:
it’s not such a leap, you know.
And so few see the real you,
so they hope you learn.
Though misguided, I’m true,
and I believe that all you need to know
is right there in your heart.
I need some sleep tonight, too.
I try to breathe real slow.
Tighten the sheets around you.
I know you’re feeling it now.
For my part,
I don’t see much point in pretending.
It’s just hard all around.
But the truth you seek
is all around in evidence.
It’s just waiting for the ball to drop,
the heart to shake, the world to come around.
You’re welcome to dig with fine tooth.
The more that you see, you’ll know.
And so few see the real you,
so they hope you learn.
Though misguided, I’m true,
and I believe that all you need to know
is right there in your heart.
You’re welcome to dig with fine tooth.
Fully Engaged
Oh no, here’s the rest of this one.
Hold on, and lost it on the sixth run.
I’m heading into dark stuff. It’s come
to row back against the drift and face the
setting. Ready?
In from the next room your eyes fix on
my soft form; you’re off to close the distance.
The myelin’s got to be thick on this one.
It’s only just begun to fire.
Ready? Ready?
Sinking in your arms, at once I see
the only way you’ll know
is to watch while it just flows,
and try to hold still.
Onus, complete with owning system.
Code this experiencing at the fifth rung.
I’m ready for expansive and unfolding.
Gently push me into the fire.
I’m ready. I’m ready.
I’m ready. I’m ready.
Heathaze
What did I get myself into?
I’ve got to find my way.
Out here at sundown, cold.
This stuff is taking away
what is left of my world.
Why don’t you?
Why don’t you?
I’ve tried it different ways with you.
It seems to end the same, so I don’t try.
I’m trying to tell myself the truth.
Both seem to fit that name
more than half of the time.
And my mind’s on you.
My mind’s on you.
The dogwoods are in bloom.
Let’s get this on the way.
The time of the heathaze is soon.
I count them mutual goals,
every one that I can.
Why don’t you?
Why don’t you?
The Long Haul
She captures the moment
before she runs away.
Pieces of the morning
flash by me in streams.
Do you want to get back
to where we started?
I’m in this for most of the long haul.
It’s too soon to know
the farthest that we’re meant to go.
So we live and we learn.
We took to the branches
before we felled the tree.
No farther than that near;
no closer than here.
And do you hope we can get back
to where we started?
You never know.
Most of the long haul
is carried in hopes
of learning what we already know.
So we live and we learn.
Far, far away from here,
the well of impossible fears
are pulling me down;
they’re pulling me down away.
All I can do is just
gather the strength to stay.
I’m in this for most of the long haul.
It’s too soon to know
the farthest that we’re meant to go.
Most of the long haul
is carried in hopes
of learning what we already know.
So we live and we learn.
Friday at 10
No, no thanks, I’m set.
Well, since, I guess, always.
Home? It’s far away.
Here? I guess I don’t know.
I used to be a total wreck
until I found that I could play,
and somewhere in between I let go.
Then one day I was forced to change
so I took what was sure and I went away.
Once I left, it was clear I was gone.
Ah, I see your point.
No, I hadn’t seen it that way.
Sure, there’s plenty more.
Yeah, I’d say it’s more or less the same.
I’m finding that I’m not so sure
that this is the way I meant to go,
because everything seems unreal and strange.
It’s hard to maintain any semblance of hope
when every time it rains, I’m the one that gets soaked.
Still, I should have thought to pack myself a coat.
Oh no,
I could lie low.
I could stay down
when I’m called.
I could lay my head right there on the ground,
and wait for the tide to come and drag me on out.
At least I would know that I was somewhere I couldn’t control.
I could give it all up, declare a total loss,
and go back to squandering my life in a hole.
But of course I know that I can’t, and I won’t.
Oh, is my time up?
Transferential
I’m all played out. I got stopped again.
I’ll just fade out on another stage.
And I’ll take out all I can for your sake.
It’s a stakeout: who’s last to leave?
And I look to yet another time and place.
It’s uncanny in the way that it’s transferential.
With not enough faith to go by.
With not enough faith to go by.
With not enough faith to go by.
I’m all wasted, not myself tonight.
But I prefer it to the usual me.
And the looks you give me tell me one thing:
that you’re not sure where you need to be.
And our stares meet; we exchange a look of worry.
And I feel things in a way that’s transferential.
With no faith to go by.
With no faith to go by.
You’ve no faith to go by.
“Don’t do it! Don’t leave me on our own.
Don’t lose it! Don’t lead me down the wrong path.
This cuts me just a little close to the bone.
Just a little close to the bone.”
And our stares meet; we exchange a look of worry.
And I feel things in a way that’s transferential.
With not enough faith to go by.
With not enough faith to go by.
With not enough faith to go by.
(Transferential) Not enough faith to go by.
The Middle Ground
What’s true is partly conditioning,
but I hold my breath anyway.
Part 2, as it goes in my fantasy,
is a small but meaningful change
signaled by the looks we exchange.
In time you’ll see that operationally,
free and alive are the same,
and to do it any other way
is too much pressure.
It’s too much pressure.
I’ll do whatever you ask of me,
but I can’t stay here in between.
You two! There’s always stuff burgeoning.
And it’s not like I don’t know what you mean.
But just what do you want me to believe?
It’s time you healed it all alone for a change.
It’s not for me to do it; and anyway,
it’s too much pressure.
It’s too much pressure.
This time you’ll see
that part of the trick is to stay
on your side of the middle ground.
And for me to drag you there
is too much pressure.
It’s too much pressure.
It’s too much pressure.
Momentary Eclipse
You see it busted right there on the wall.
You feel emotion; the rage, for me, trumps all.
Don’t think I wouldn’t change if I could.
I feel you pull away.
I knew it.
You could never
love the real me.
And we were golden there for quite a while.
And me withholding when it came up at all.
Fool to think that I could change forever.
I push you back away.
I knew it.
You could never
love the real me.
Hold on, I think I’ve got a handle.
No wait, don’t go away.
I knew it.
You could never
love the real me.
Empty Hollow
Through the darkened parlor downstairs,
a box sits on the shelf by the mantelpiece.
Will you fetch it down ad bring it here?
Polish all the dust off and set it down.
Won’t you shut the door now,
and leave me here alone a while with my thoughts.
Because I feel so alone with you here.
All the way from heaven on wheels
of polished bronze and chromium and steel.
It’s a waste of time to keep from moving.
Almost lost my heart now, on tears
and solid drops of water in sheets,
and ice-cold bones in my closet.
Because I feel so alone with you here.
You know I feel so alone with you here.
Empty hollow.
Empty hollow.
Empty hollow.
Oh for how the train runs on cue
inside the ancient fault lines;
its route is on the border side of the fields.
All the mocking voices hold still,
anticipating motions from me to start the warning cry,
but I am steadfast,
because I feel so alone without you here.
Yeah, I feel so alone without you here.
Empty hollow.
Empty hollow.
Empty hollow.
Monday Night
Monday night, eleven or twelve.
Sitting on the floor with myself.
Fill my glass and dry my eyes,
trying to forget to realize who I am.
And you’re gone,
and you hardly even were there.
Were they blue or green?
I can’t recall, and you’re gone.
When I close my eyes, you’re there,
I don’t remember just where.
If I only knew, I’d go there and stay
until these visions go away.
Sleep, please sleep, please sleep,
please sleep, please sleep.
Be here again.
I want to see you again;
I want to be around when you come out.
Forget I said I’d prefer dead.
Just come out, it’s alright: it’s night.
Ah.
You go around and round,
and round and round,
and round and round
and round. Oh. Ah.