by Native Bells

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Special thanks to Kathryn Scribner for collaboration with the album artwork.


released February 5, 2012



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Native Bells New York, New York

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Track Name: The Blinding Sun
How can this place be so beautiful?
How does the sun shine brighter and brighter each day?
How can this place be so beautiful?
How does the air just whisk across your face?

Slowly turning, slowly turning
Everything so slowly turning
Messy as can be but still
so bright in spite of all the things we see

The morning is white as the sun tonight
The morning is quiet but louder than I can hear
The morning is white as the sun tonight
The morning is whispering screams into your ear

Spinning wildly, spinning wildly,
Everything so strong but mildly
Orderly but still so out of
place in case we stumble on our own

Slowly turning, slowly turning
Everything so slowly turning
Messy as can be but still
so bright in spite of all the things we see
that we are only make believe
and need a place to call our own
Track Name: Inverted
Trailing on a icy tree branch
and floating it away
Made all in a violet spindle
and pulling us insane
Tracking down the black and white
reversing all the rain
Defeating all the colors we know
and start at zero again

Pitch black on an icy tree branch
inverted in the sun
Colored like a dried up orchid
and sent 'til winter's done
Token eyes in pidgin breadcrumbs
soaked up like a sponge
Deadly in a brownstone window
made to take the plunge

Pouring out the sour milk
to court the dripping sky
Stellar motions holding secrets
and letting them fly by
Dwindle on a severed tree branch
making like the tide
Tough to find the answer we want
to satisfy our minds
Track Name: Shaded
Shaded like the hollow core
of an overnight suburb
and bleakly shown through the glimmering crest
of a starry heaven

Shaded like the testing structures
Towering in manhattan
and slowly yellowed, still and sordid
in a leveling afternoon

Shaded like the evergreen touch
in a Parsons sketch book
and deftly drawn to the textured thought
in a tangerine night

Shaded like the autumnal dwindle
in a slowly fading ember
and brightly bleating, toppled
on the summer road
Track Name: In a Tin Can
Sitting on the stairs, looking oh so hip
In her drain pipe jeans, fancy red all over her lips
Looking out at the city from the comfort of her stoop
Saying just what she means, all the while looking so cute

She lets me in the door
We climb the stairs up to the
Fourteenth floor
We look around
An empty spot's on the floor
She looks at me and says
"What are you looking at me for?"

Oooh don't you know
You're just an image in your mind
Oooh don't you know
You're all the things I left behind
Outta sight and outta mind now

Looking out the glass, wondering if all this is real
Are you nails that sharp? Are your eyes that teal?
She tells me "step onto the ledge, just to see if you can fly"
And I say "I don't know if you know what it means to be alive"

She tells me to let go
I make it over to the
Bedroom door
I tell her "I'm not sure what
I came here for"
She says "it's over now, the time is gone
and you're too poor"

She ran in her heels, trying hard to catch my eye
"It's all hopeless now," though I've known myself to lie
If maybe you're a broken glass, (shattered 'cross) po unded on the floor
'Least I know where not to step, 'least I know where not to go

She grabs me by the hand
Hands me her number
Says she's just 'round the bend
And looking back I guess we knew
It was the end
When weeks would pass and still
her number rotted in a tin can
Track Name: Shining Like a Star
We just moved with the night so dear
Colored it around
Took our tragic little stories
Set them up and broke them down
We sat down on our broken lives
Looked into the sun
We had nothing in our hands
But cigarette butts on our tongues

Keep it up
We've got somewhere to go
Keep it up
Never too fast, never too slow
Keep it up
All of the time

Keep it up
We need more than that now
Keep it up
We need to move and make it last now
Keep it up
All of the time

Now we tire of living low
Sunken in your hair
Judging people by their looks
Instead of judging what they wear
Tearing up all your little notes
Burning all the cards
Rising up like little tablets
Coming down in little shards

What we want, what we'll never get
Shining like a star
Makes us shiver in our sleep
And makes us speed along in our cars
Taking pills, taking paper sheets
Bowls and bags and shots
Making worth of what we have
And making do with what we're not