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30 Days

by Boy In a Jar

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    Before I started the 30-day project, I was writing songs at a rate of about one per month. This was an exercise intended to break my habit of over-obsessing about song lyrics, recording quality and vocal delivery. It has done that and more.


    I can hardly believe the transformation this project has invoked in me as an artist; from the emergence of a wide range of formerly untapped influences to the way brutal honesty and personal experiences have forced their way into my lyrics.


    As of this writing, I'm 21 days in and have fallen nine tracks behind. Which may sound pretty damning, but I'm staying optimistic because I have a fair amount of back-logged material--songs that just need a little bit of tweaking here and there--and I'm ready to get back on pace.
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1.
i'm ready for a change of venue, i'm ready for a new girl i'm ready to grow up, but not too much because i have drank myself silly, i have drank a bit too much but i've spent a decade building this tall man, and i think that i'm more than good enough for anyone you bitter bitch, you concubine if you want your say, then stand in line because i'm gonna get mine for the first time in my life i need a new representative, i need a brand new america one that knows what's going on around her, one that actually gives a fuck because i have screamed myself hoarse, and i have talked until you got bored and i try to forget, but it's here, it's now and it's face it or end up face down and i've been splitting time between the dashboard and waking up thirty-seven minutes late but it seems good, it seems okay i've met someone and i think that it might be great
2.
hands, navels and hips there must be some sort of trick to this but all of my experiments have failed waking up like a brick all fired up on endorphins slipping out like a mistress, licking my wounds and it's rude to stare, but i will for a while the biggest words that i know one more tired crescendo every song i've wrote, i hate so good morning, me and good morning, sandusky now, could we go back to sleep already?
3.
pump myself full of tennessee whiskey and peculiar proclivities to try anything once i get tired around six-thirty in the morning light is coming through your doorway you can see the airborn dust our muscles and bones, our fingers and toes good lord, that was close from powder to fire to smoke some turn it around and say it out loud, say, "i like the sound of sleeping underground" so-and-so got tired of wiping so-and-so's tears he's been doing it for years his car is missing from the driveway so come on, little brother, screw up your courage and do it i think you'd be good at it and i'll be watching from the highway our muscles and bones, our fingers and toes good lord, that was close from powder to fire to smoke some turn it around and say it out loud, say, "i like the sound of sleeping underground" appalachia, snaggle-toothed peaks let me die in my sleep and i'll sing like a canary
4.
i'm up on a sturdy stone ledge eyes fixed on a pretty majorette the trumpet's breaking rank, my body shakes, oh yeah the make-believe friends i've made got hands like rattlesnakes and this whole god damned town reeks like the devil things are probably gonna come unchained in the end i'll probably change my name might have to move away just to escape the grain i could try to be responsible you could take it back, you could come on home i've been feeling like a bastard son you've been feeling like you're no one scary things on the tv god only knows what it'll do to me you'll believe in anything these days anything to fill your fists with rage but in all honesty, what have you seen or heard from me? another muscle torn hell, i'm tired of metaphors but this is the only tongue that i can stomach i wanna hit somebody on their mouth give me one good reason to stop this now we've all got open wounds and things to prove, and lose i could try to be responsible you could take it back, you could come on home i've been feeling like a bastard son you've been feeling like you're no one scary things on my tv god only knows what it'll do to me you are coloring your hair and i am probably going nowhere
5.
broke like a branch on your advance it was summertime, i shouldn't have been here for so long and everything else came in between when i woke and went back to sleep and the list goes on and on hey, i don't see you with dirt on your face and i cannot find a single place to hide in this state why don't all my days end in the same place? walked four miles in the august heat felt sick as a dog and flat on my feet and let it end as it may breath and lipstick, oh my god i think we've all seen this before: bodies on display hey, i don't see you with dirt on your face and i cannot find a single place to hide in this state why don't all my days end in the same place? and you make friends so quick, but the way you act should make them sick you wanton narcissist, wish i didn't, but i think i get it
6.
Shangri-La 03:50
auburn light in shangri-la the space between the sun and the darker spots all the days shrink down to scale your mother always gets you by the end of your tail now i walk your trail still every day and i climb the stairs to my bed and wait i think that you come in sometimes when i sleep because i can feel you slipping in next to me you seep in between the blinds and i feel your skin upon my hide cigarette smoke in your hair, emerald sky and your mouth to mine so i got a little bird and she sings me songs my fur got fine and my legs grew long still, i wonder from time to time where you went i wonder if you're thinking of me now and again you seep in between the blinds and i feel your skin upon my hide cigarette smoke in your hair, emerald sky and your mouth to mine
7.
Clavicle 03:04
when i get older, when you were younger where do i end, where did you begin? and who says it's a sin? i have gravity, you have gravity i'm turning on my axis, we're somewhat close but you hover like smoke and i fall right over vertigo gets me again i hold a moment, i let go of it i quite enjoy the delusion of control i decide where to go i have symmetry, you have symmetry i like the left and the right of your divide; one clavicle on each side and i fall right over vertigo gets me again
8.
New to Me 02:13
i've been a hundred miles in every cardinal direction, looked upon the river and saw my own reflection i left the keys in the car and a picture that i drew of your favorite stars if i were my father, maybe i could read a road map and maybe i could go more than forward and back but i will see what can become of a man and his afflictions when he will not succumb well, you'd be new to me, though you smile like an old friend you'd put a new bounce in my step i've got fuel for this engine yet because the wars that they're fighting, they're not gonna stop and the world is the world, so we've got what we've got so here's my hand we're gonna make some god damned plans we'll find a brand new way to do everything, this shook up world be damned yeah
9.
10.
disrepair; wrecking balls dent when they collide and i don't care for the way the wind blows sometimes the buckeye state leaks sweat and petrol and everything else that we create in falling all about ourselves laughable, you think you're the exception to the rule and i do, too, i think i'm twice as ripe as you and senescence comes earlier than you'd expect but i digress, we're nothing more than pride and sex long solstice glance, half-hashed out plan once more, i'm back watching you dance my weathered peach, you bluish-green keep my face clean, indian creek whole wheat bread and song and perfume in your stead to live again, and to efface my discontent to tell the truth, i knew the book was overdue but i eschewed pages i thought might run you through long solstice glance, half-hashed out plan once more, i'm back watching you dance my weathered peach, you bluish-green keep my face clean, indian creek

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released July 1, 2011

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Boy In a Jar Toledo, Ohio

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