1. |
Two by two
03:43
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Do you remember trying to see yourself through another pair of eyes? A poorly made disguise? At night we felt the warm air grow still. Cassettes under the bed, like secrets that you hid. Remember when we didn’t care if anyone was looking?
I remember living in pursuit of the sounds that gave us chills. We answered to ourselves. Sometimes I want to feel that way again. We’ll pretend to be asleep. The things we touch, we keep. Remember when we didn’t care if anyone was looking? Two by two, we’ll sail into a place where we might know just what to do.
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2. |
Weeds
03:28
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Been dreaming about the weeds. They’re growing in my sleep. They do their work at night, digging in and holding tightly. We kill the center, but new roots still grow.
Been dreaming about the war, and everything we’ve worked for. This battle’s all but lost. It’s just a question of the cost now. They’re growing again. “Hold on,” you said. We kill the center but new roots still grow.
And I wake scared but inspired. In a way I must admire the way their roots just don’t let go. “Hold on,” you said, “until the cold comes again. We’ll grow ourselves some roots of our own.”
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3. |
Vladimir and Gabriel
03:41
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Well I still have those books we bought the day before your love got lost. You know I haven’t read a word since that night.
I guess I ought to loan you a few, now that what you did to me he’s done to you. I think we’ve still got a few chapters to write, you and I.
So please forgive the confusion, cause I forget what happens next. And please don’t give away the ending just yet.
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4. |
On getting there
02:57
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“Hey you, with your eyes all aglow: you’ll do fine. If you knew everything I know at twenty-nine, you’d be going out tonight. Hey you, with your eyes on the prize: you’ll get there. If I say to you that it’s grown too hard to fight or to care, you just go on out and fight. You just go on out tonight. You just go on out and fight for me.”
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5. |
Down Waterview
03:51
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I’m calling to say I might be late. I’m trying to find a new way home through our city tonight. Left on Hilton, to the Gwynns Falls, wind through the park to TV Hill, and then over the bridge to you.
They’re ripping up the parkway again. No one can pass — I check the maps for a way through. We plot escapes via telephone, blind leading blind down Waterview, over the bridge, across the Middle Branch, to me. Only so many roads into this place; even fewer lead out - that’s why we all get stuck here.
I’m sick of these same old routes I drive. Stuck at the same red lights, nudging the same yellow lines. If I can find some new scenery, something for you to see, it might keep you here with me another year or two. Because you’re afraid that you’ll never leave here, and I’m afraid you’ll leave alone.
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6. |
A better way to run
02:52
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You left town with starry eyes, dreaming of the bridges and bright lights. Now you wake up every day in a place that you'll only leave behind. And you try and try and try. But there must be a better way to run away. Sleeping in airports sounds grand, but it won't be home for long.
As you try to be a better man, one someone can understand — you said I never would — all I've got are some clouded lines and a home that'll be there when we land. And I try and try and try. There must be a better way to run away. Sleeping in airports sounds grand, but it won't be home for long.
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7. |
Temporary homes
04:21
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And Memphis closed on Sunday, so we left town at half past three, and moved as if we had some place to be. And St. Louis had welcomed us with a garden and an open door, and you said it reminded you of Baltimore. You don’t see that all I want’s a place to be. Where, I don’t mind, as long as it’s mine — yours and mine.
When we got home we were lost here. Everything looked smaller than it should. We’d have belonged if we only thought we could. On the road, in another borrowed home, making ice cubes in the bathroom sink. I closed the door, while you slept on the floor. Our homes were temporary. Our lives are temporary.
Three X’s on the tile floor lent some permanence to words that we long knew: “That’s all right, mama, any way you do.”
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8. |
Enter early and often
01:42
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The grooves were overflowing with all we had to say. I’m not surprised when they ignore us anyway. Oh, you know we got nothing left to prove. Oh, you know we got nothing left to prove.
We faked our smiles and we held them ‘til they stuck. So seal that envelope and kiss it for good luck. Oh, you know we got nothing else to lose. Oh, you know we got nothing else to lose.
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9. |
Consider the archer
03:25
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On a cold December night, the gallery walls seem to hold the light, so bare and white. We’re lighting for a memory, preparing a permanent place to be, for a sight unseen.
To the day, three winters now, since that long night in a river town. We’ve been gaining ground. That little bar where we played our songs – I went back last August and found it gone, and it felt so long. Tonight feels like home, but I wonder if it won’t be recalled as the end of something.
In private the archer’s aim is sound, but he shoots for the prize, and he’s blind and bound. You’ve got to be lost before you’re found, so look for us on your way back down.
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10. |
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I’d forgotten how the cars line up this early in the day, end to end down 83, barely moving the same way. I’d forgotten how the light looks when the sun’s this low in the sky, and the feeling of possibility when you know it’s on the rise.
But the sensation’s fleeting: I merge and then it leaves me, and we’re awake but I’m alone. I’ve spent my mornings sleeping. This promise I’ll be keeping: This year I’m going far from home. This year I’m going to see the sun.
I’d forgotten how our time slips by so quickly when we’re working it away. You say you’d like an easy life, if only easy would pay. It’s funny how much time we spend avoiding doing what we love. This year we’re going to rise, this year we’re going to rise. We’re going to see the sun.
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11. |
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I remember sitting two by two as your notes rang in the air, then slipped away from there. It’s beautiful sometimes to let them go and never again be heard. That’s what I’m trying to learn.
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Private Eleanor Baltimore, Maryland
Private Eleanor was a band from Baltimore, 2001–2007.
Private Eleanor recommends:
Austin from Private Eleanor has made a few home-recorded solo records since the band ended. Here's the latest.
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