1. |
Hello, Benjamin
02:28
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i would kill for some good old heart break. a couple dozen records lost, left at your place. for your friends to stop talking to me out of some well-intentioned, vile, loyalty. and i would give up the drinking and the drugs. sell off the banjo and guitars. spend the week in bed, lights off, dodging friends, just to know, for once, i was somebody’s someone. just to know...that these black out nights will become bright and better days when i don’t look at a mirror and think “christ, have i aged.” when your hand softly traces the contours of my body. this bag of bones is yours to own. and hold me to my word, it’s the only thing i have. passed down like my father’s name and his father’s before him. it means everything to me. but you must bet on the longshots. for us, it’s all we got. we may win or lose but we will never stop. there are worse things in this life than living through loss. so make the jump and let it burn like all good things must. and we’ll go all in for the underdogs. throw bricks through glass ceilings and kill all the landlords. we may win or lose but we will never stop. we’ll make the jump and let it burn like all good things must.
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2. |
I Want You
03:30
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call it what you want, i don’t have an ounce of will. you had me at hello and i will have you. you’ve got me acting like a starry eyed kid and not in the romantic way but in the way where i look like an idiot. quoting kerouac, smoking till my lungs turn black. call this what you like, i could call you if you want. you could be the subject of every single stupid song. it’s been three years since i have been free and everyone i’ve slept with no longer wants to talk to me. i’m cutting losses, ties, and lines of communication. you’re the only good thing i’ve laid my eyes on. i want you. and you can call me what you want, i could call you if you like. i’ll debase myself, at your leisure, every night. and when i sleep, i’ll dream of you catching my eye, proving love at first sight is true. and like new lovers we could make the jump and let the fall take us. i want you.
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3. |
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we wear our hearts on our sleeves. tattooed to the teeth with our politics in rolled up jeans that we take off so easily. no names, no feelings. under the gun we run run run. what does that say about us? what does that say about love? love is a word that we use too often like god, yes and no and i’m sorry but my dear, you look so fine with pistols drawn in morning light saying “make my day, boy and i’ll make you mine.” i bought you flowers on the walk home. wrote songs from letters and love notes. it’s not a problem because i want. it’s a problem because i get. and it clouds my judgement. there are no secrets you keep next to me because you talk in your sleep. when i’m closer than close could ever be. but close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. when i am yours and he is your dream. close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. everything else is miles away.
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4. |
Patron Saint
03:42
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i’m the patron saint of broken hearts. i’m a mess, i confess and that’s a start. but where it ends, i don’t know. at the bottom of a whiskey bottle thrown at my face? are you insane? leave the past where it was. we’ll call this love. leave the past where it was. let’s be fools, let’s call this love. i’m a dick, you’re a dove. i’m addicted to the peace when you take off. but in your wake, i’m taking shells and praying to anyone that will still take my calls. i’m on my knees begging you please. [chorus] but in between all the arguments, the make-up sex, police visits, i lie like a carpet. to get laid and walked out on, strung out, beaten up and danced upon. and in between what we think we know, two souls that want to have to hold, to own. we get a taste and waste away or waste it gambling it all away on cold hearts in warm bodies. we’re two steps from the edge and one memory away from giving up and jumping in. our history repeats. we neither learn nor retreat. we’re going down just you and me. so, let’s leave the past where it was. we’ll call this love. leave the past where it was. we’ll be fools. we’ll be in love.
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5. |
OWTF
04:25
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there was a time when hope kept me afloat, but that dingy is sinking and the rain in this storm’s made of lead. now i’m lost and alone thinking what was i thinking when those flowers you sent me were already dead. well take a good look in my eyes. did you expect to see any surprise? my silence is all the satisfaction you’ll get ‘cause i know the what and the where and the when but i’m not sure i’ll ever know why. and maybe the whole thing was just a bad joke. i was hook line and sinker from the first time we spoke. and i needed you like i need another toke but you’ve got to have fire if you want to make smoke. and we’ve got this train moving fast now. we’ll all be fucked when we run out of track. but i’ll ride just fine to the end of the line ‘cause i’m sick and i’m tired and this wait has been breaking my back. and we’re all just thunder and lightning, universes hurtling through themselves at top speed. and i guess we can’t all do the right thing. i’d cut it all short but i’m scared and i ain’t got the greed. [chorus] there was a time when hope kept me afloat, but that dingy is sinking and the rain in this storm’s made of lead. now i’m lost and adrift and like a fish i’ve been drinking. low as low high as a kite, thinking “oh, what the fuck was i thinking?” hook, line and sinker.
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6. |
Longhaul
03:27
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been drinking since six am, now i’m waiting for a train to take me back west. such simple solutions for what can only be described as the complex problem that you’re leaving, heading for the coast for reasons i do not know. it’s that lack of transparency i expect from my government, not from someone who emptied bottles and filled ashtrays with me and planned the revolution from a gallery. but if it’s all the same to you, i’d prefer if you never come back to new england or set foot in the state of massachusetts. and it’s a longhaul, a long way back home when the miles that you count outnumber reasons you should go and you’re left to sit wanting only for what’s gone and a cigarette. i learned to walk just to count the steps from when we were us to when we’re strangers again and it’s shorter, now, than i’d like to admit.but if it’s all the same to you, i’d prefer if you never come back to new england or set foot in the state of massachusetts.
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7. |
Team Mean Kids
03:32
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i got a message from the devil, he says i’m heaven sent, so now i got a pint of jim beam and thoughts of violence aimed at a busted guitar that never walked out on me. i’ve got a thorn in my side and a hole in my shirt, been rolling bali shag and ditching work, blowing halfhearted smoke rings in my future’s direction. but i got big plans, high hopes and a family that will get me through the week. now i’m either half in the bag or half asleep or somewhere halfway in between. i’ve got a weathered soul, a hardened heart and a liver that does what those two cannot. and these days it occurs to me that i’m 26 years old and i haven’t learned a fucking thing. but i’m trying. you can’t deny me that i’m trying. i got big plans, high hopes and a family that will get me through the week. and it’s in these nights that we come alive, when we scream poetry and lock eyes. my brothers are second to none. we’re always outnumbered but never outgunned. now all i need is a song and a stage, my guitar and a good night’s sleep to be anything. i got big plans, high hopes and a family that will get me through the week.
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Time and Place Boston, Massachusetts
Five pals who can clear a room faster than a fire alarm.
Time and Place recommends:
Share The Bottle
by The Old Edison / Time and Place
This is family.
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Keep Bangin
by Yankee Cockfight
Danceable blues with fat, fuzzy guitar and bad-ass harmonica.
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Short, catchy, powerful rock songs with great lyrics you can't understand on the first listen.
go to albumIf you like Time and Place, you may also like:
Gutsy rock & roll from this Brooklyn group bursting with hot-rodding riffs and snarling vocals, hearkening back to classic dark punk.
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Visible Damage
by SELF IMPROVEMENT
Whip-smart post-punk coursing with nervous energy, dancey beats, and venomous humor from Self Improvement.
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