Isolette

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1.
a coded message from the end of the night i've been blinding myself trying to beat out the light and it's a dangerous thing to spend the evenings in a state of denial when the things that you do can be ignored for a while but can't be ever erased by just a smiling face your reputation is a chain on your neck and you can never redeem if you can never correct all of the wrongs that you've done so how can this be fun? turn to an offer it's the last thing i remember and soon when the party ends and you're alone at last how will you make amends?
2.
(free) 04:36
small hand around my fingertip, a grip that was fleeting and i can not find a word that can describe that same feeling the picture does not lie: the future is all knives up on the screen the frame contains the contents of our lives and no plan can stand the tragedies at hand are just random then everything goes fast these rapids can not last later on we'll go to a house that's built on stone where we can rest our heads alone away from the sharpened knives later on we'll all live better lives wash away the ground was shifting too fast beneath our feet and i worried so much but now i know that perfect is not neat dilemmas upon us left us with half as much
3.
(free) 05:01
last week we couldn't sleep at all from thoughts of empty beds in the room at the end of the hall for three months we flinched at every call it was a terrible summer counting days until the start of the fall but down by the river lying beneath the trees staring at the light burning between the leaves no one here can ever know our lives in the isolette you're so warm and slight searching for quarters for a parking space for 89 days we were visitors watching your face and right now i just want to hold you tight and say the simple things you say when you're saying goodnight but down by the river lying beneath the trees staring at the light burning between the leaves no one here can ever know our lives we're waiting here both beside your bed together but separate as you sleep in your isolette
4.
(free) 04:15
the summer's over, can we breathe at last we're giving up on sun, but one by one we knew the days had to pass we stared at images in black and white in the picture was a shadow folded into the light it's just an anxious abstraction all i ever wanted was the sound that i have in front of me (waiting on the sun we waited out the summer) now we're peeling off the wires because all alarms have expired (waiting on the sun we waited out the summer) now all alarms are off you're coming back home from the city weekly visits led to weakened hopes we could use another month to get off off the ropes but this is all that we're getting i measured lines out as they scratched the scrolls stretched my fingers to the peaks and marked ten minutes for a week this was as long as you'd hold them
5.
(free) 03:31
fourteen weeks to set my hands at rest it was a shaky effort, but it was the best that i could do and while you slept upstairs i was kicking out the chairs beneath you and i dont know how you could have chosen these lives of white lies, blackouts and apologies and there's so much to lose there's things that i cannot undo, but now i won't get lost i'm yours now it's autumn and we're home fourteen weeks to set my hands at rest it was a shaky effort, but it was the best that i could do and while you slept upstairs i was kicking out the chairs, but now i won't get lost i'm yours now it's autumn and we're home we're his now it's autumn and we're home

credits

released January 19, 2010

Mike Kennedy: guitar, keyboards, vocals
Mary Garito: vocals, keyboards
Jim Kehoe: guitar
Kristine Kennedy: bass, vocals
Steve cawley: drums
Ed Hogarty: guitar

Written and produced by Mike Kennedy. Recorded by MK and Jeff White September-December 2009 at the Shackamaxon Moon Garage and Berks Street Station. "Fourteen Weeks" recorded by Jeff White at The Laundromat January 2010. Mixed and mastered by Jeff White and MK at the Laundromat.

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