1.I Sit On The Ridge At Dusk
Lyricist：David Donnell Longstreth
I sit on the ridge at dusk
As the light leaves the valley by rising
Trees, fingers clutch at it
Vaguely sifting the light and dying
So bleed sarcophagi romantically
Re-bleed with dignifying
Reconstructive makeup
2.Obscure Wisdom
Lyricist：David Donnell Longstreth
The only instance of your poor judgment
Would be to mistrust it
Mistrust the superior wisdom of your body
Beautiful and pure, obscure but sure
Manhattan will take you
But let it be in a while
Manhattan will take you
But let it be in a while
3.The Glad Fact
Lyricist：David Donnell Longstreth
Well, here I go again
Well, here I go again, here I go again
Well, here I go again
Well, here I go again, here I go again
Now I'm into the season of summer
Tired and not really feeling
And I am like the begrudgingly awakened
For me the sun is here to spy
And all my attempts at living
Just like all of my feelings for girls
Since you have been faint-hearted
And ambivalent paralyzing
But here I go again
Well, here I go again, here I go again
Well, here I go again
Well, here I go again, here I go again
4.This Weather
When I start to feel this way
I might as well call it a day
When I start to feel this way
I can only wonder
What is this weather I'm under
What is this weather I'm under
When I start to feel this way
I might as well call it a day
When I start to feel this way
I can only wonder
What is this weather I'm under
What is this weather I'm under
5.Imagine It
Throw it inside your friend's head
No caffeine pills on prescription
Just you and simple mud that you've tracked in there
What slips between the creases
Could easily fool or bamboozle you
The oriental rock of the colonialist
Stolen out from under his big brass desk
For a street parade to the community college
Or a magic carpet ride on Broad Street
If you can imagine it, imagine it
Burning the midnight oil
So fierce it's trucked in the lap of the powerful
Maybe that's part of your resource
And just as nervous, she's demure as milk
Blank as a bamboo casket
She's a basket of good will
Two red brows, two proud rows
The talking breakfast full of shit blues
The detail's what you lose
In the Peking sunset
To which we pitch our trash dreams
And our friends sit back, zip by
Abiding the only practice with traditious sounds
Or the psychopath among us
Like a serendipis with anti-fashion
A rainbow quilt frayed around the edges is charismatic
Got grease on my hand like Arab oil
Plants my seeds in arid soil
Give me some frown in my terrible toil
But I'll look after you
I'll look after you
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