The Wilderness
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release date:

October 23, 2009

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The Wilderness (2009)

The Wilderness Book  is available to order from www.burb.com  A bound series of artworks created especially to accompany the album as well as the complete lyrics, with notes and comments from Colin on the making of the album itself. Hardcover First Edition: 26 Pages Bound. Set in Calson.

LYRICS & CREDITS

Love
I've been running on fumes, just spent the last of them.
If you'd ask me now I'd say, I don't care to start again.
If I stay still enough, I can't feel time.
Love, if you're not anywhere, here's just fine.

There's a portion of my tongue that's now immune to sweet.
I should have taken more care to watch what I eat.
You see this as a fake world, but I see this as a sign.
That, Love, if you're not here, then anywhere is fine.

The conversation at this bar is shallow and absurd,
but the emphasis tonight I find is not upon words.
Charts about my standards show a steadying decline.
Love, if you're not my everyone, then anyone is fine.

With an echo chamber as their stage, the players are appalled.
So they resign knowing they won't deliver their all.
I float since in a bubble, it's a prison I designed.
Love, if I can't share your space, then any space is fine.

Indifferent to all my doubts, the sun rises and sets,
but the angriest of rocks up there is as close as it gets.
Oh and the grace it still evades me and our planets won't align,
but Love, though it's a dirty sky, the stars above still shine.

Love I know you can't see through this city sky, but they still shine.
Scratch
In a pit we scrap for prizes.
Nude sacrifice. Unionized, secure.
With peace out of reach, the bad company has a sticky allure.

We are numb to all surprises, funny bones that can laugh no more.
No changes we seek. Days turn into weeks, not a thing to risk for.

I need a new love, a girl with long red nails, to scratch you out of my mind.
I need a new love, that kicks in when I fail to scratch you out of mind.

We have memories far and distant. Home videos, heroes not unlike
a virtuous date that intimidates, one we won't call back.

Well my real name I remember, but people just call me by my clothes.
It seems more apt, suits the way that I act. I don't care and it shows.
Your face will look well with the others, now sit for your pose.

I need a new love, a girl with long red nails, to scratch you out of my mind.
I need a new love, that kicks in when I fail to scratch you out of mind.
I need a new love.

The bottle's only a bottle when it's empty.

When I paint you, I use food, so I can devour you at will.
Ripe olives for eyes, Guinness hair by your side. I want art I can kill.

Stone Faces
I met a woman in the desert who knew more than I would guess.
She comfortably could breeze through every chapter of my mess.
She knew about you baby, how you don't call and you don't write.
She knew me as a small boy who would say his prayers at night.

Stone faces, father figures take this pilgrim across the river.
Maybe in your silence, you can save me.
Underneath this cross I quiver, but dudeman, yours was so much bigger.
It won't surprise you now - I'm curious to how you can save me.

For forty-five days a year I won't smoke and I won't drink, and I limit my engagements with the girls to flirty winks.
But the rest the year I freestyle in an olympic pool of vice.
You can eat your food unseasoned, I'm gonna load mine up with spice.

Stone faces, father figures take this pilgrim across the river.
Maybe in your silence, you can save me.
Underneath this cross I quiver, but dudeman, yours was so much bigger.
It won't surprise you now - I'm curious to how you can save me.

The growing list of oversights.
The small boy would be scandalized.
We all start off with clean hearts until fear arrives.
It's then that you make your first deal with compromise, and make statues cry.

I made two wishes in the desert for things I want most in my life,
and as dudeman is my witness, none of them relate to vice.
Well, the woman said I would be fine, if I looked after my own health,
and opened up my ears more to the words of selfless self.

Stone faces, father figures take this pilgrim across the river.
Maybe in your silence, you can save me.
Underneath this cross I quiver, but dudeman, yours was so much bigger.
It won't surprise you now - I'm curious to how you can save me.
Come Back
I have rarely called on you or asked you for anything.
But when I have, you've helped me cope with my bad feeling.
So tell me why now when I call you are not answering.
You were all I had, don't say now I've lost everything.

We were never introduced, you just always seemed to be around.
I had you, like sky has blue, or violins have gorgeous sound.
I know I've disappointed much too many of my friends.
But you, despite myself, I thought I'd have until the end.

Come back to me.
I die when you are gone.
Don't quit on me. Don't leave me be.
I'll try, I'll try.

If it's not obvious, I'll try to explain.
This is not made up, it's just that sometimes I strain
to trust in words to say what I mean.
And it unsettles me to think you haven't seen how much I believe.

I have been accused of caring far too much or not at all.
It depends on how many remain until that final straw.
But it's your silence now that hollows me right to the core.
You can name your price, just say you'll sing with me some more.

Come back to me.
I die when you are gone.
Don't quit on me. Don't leave me be.
I'll try, I'll try.

And if you don't pick up, I will not stop.
You see, to die like this is to die free.
Organ in your Chest
If she says "I'm your girl", then what can that mean?
And you dance with her like it's been all your life.
He says "It happens, when you least expect it".
In a world of hasty words, can they be right?

Now I can't ask the clock to tell the hour.
And precedents and case files don't apply.
When eyes and ears and tongue mistrust their power
the organ in your chest perceives the light.

The money in your pocket buys you airfare.
The spaces in your schedule buy you time.
But experience has prompted hesitation.
So lucky for you, instinct overrides.

The markings on your palm reveal an outline,
and every star required has aligned.
And though you never bought much into omens,
the organ in your chest will steer you right.

Even as you leave you are not certain
if everything you need's not left behind.
With your eyes still veiled by misty curtains,
reluctantly, you link arms with the blind.
The blemishes that once were so apparent,
dissolved amidst the friction of your flight.
And, with those eyes retired for lesser purpose,
the organ in your chest provides the light.

Who told you you were Rght?
Who told you that you that were right?
Who let you think you could sleep tonight?
Who was so sure of their advice,
that told you you were right?

You saw the day and it was rough.
Something you don't want a part of.
But I see the night coming soon enough,
and with you there, I call that love.

After it's dark, there's a light that remains
and I don't understand if it's you or it's jesus, or music, or if it's me.
So if it makes you happy, enjoy being right.
But you're my light.

You can order diet if you want.
Stay away from seafood if you want.
And don't forget to put the seatbelt on,
'cause you know that it's right.

For once I'd like to see the guard come down
and take a look to see what good comes out
when you do something that you like,
and not just 'cause you think it's right.

After it's dark, there's a light that remains
and I don't understand if it's you or it's jesus, or music, or if it's me.
So if it makes you happy, enjoy being right.
But you're my light.

Drunks Prefer Lies
It's not that important at all.
Just one of my moments, is all.
That clarity's not comfortable.
And sooner or later I'll fall

into a glass, where I'm carefree at last,
and I'll sit there until the moment runs past.
I'll be drunk tonight, and it may not be right,
but when the going gets tough, drunks prefer lies.

I can never figure out
just who brings the trouble about.
But right as I'm pinning him down
the coward is just slipping out.

And falls into a glass, where I'm carefree at last,
and I'll sit there until the moment runs past.
I'll be drunk tonight, and it may not be right,
but when the going gets tough, drunks prefer lies.

Why can't I be what I wanted to be?
I want only one me. Only one me.

Into a glass, where I'm carefree at last,
and I'll sit there until the moment runs past.
I'll be drunk tonight, and it may not be right,
but when the going gets tough, drunks prefer lies.

The Wilderness
Daydreaming. Picturing world peace and a time when mercy is on everyone's mind.
Sad feelings and notions of bad luck have darkened my outlook and stolen my time.

Believe me, I know, I know it's true, we're a step from the animals.
And conscience has not got much to do with the need to survive.

But don't let it break your heart or poison your innocence,
when nature won't take your part and doesn't make any sense.

'Cause this is the wilderness, where birds steal from others nests,
with no thought for its viciousness. No comfort at all.
This is the wilderness and I could have you killed, I guess,
and make me like all the rest. A slave to it all.

I ponder the fate of the archer who strikes down gods creatures without any need.
Will the forest gather together and rise up in anger? That's insane they're just trees.

And kids grow up so damn fast today, while most men are children.
And ever more rare becomes the case of grace in a woman.

But don't let that break your heart or rotten your innocence,
When nature won't take your part and doesn't make any sense.

'Cause this is the wilderness, where birds steal from others nests,
with no thought for its viciousness. No comfort at all.
This is the wilderness and I could have you killed I guess,
and make me like all the rest. A slave to it all.

Angry Song
Where is this place you're taking me?
You know I scare so easily.
I bite my nails and smoke way too much.
So if I get lung cancer,then you'll be to blame for it all.

Do you mean everything you say?
Don't you tire of carrying on that way?
I opened up and you let me in.
So if that don't mean nothing, you should be ashamed of yourself.

Spread Too Thin
I'm gonna spread myself too thin.
Do it for no good reason.
Baby, you just don't understand
how this bar feels just like home.

You're gonna spread yourself too thin.
Read the warning 'fore you walk in.
Watch where you put those spreading limbs.
Baby take aim before you sling.

You know when we talk, I catch you staring
at the top of my head. How it's spreading thin.
And you know I know that it's nothing.
But this is where youth's light starts to dim.

Get up and play, go Colin sing.
Let's hear these songs, we're listening.
But I don't have two cents to put in,
'cause people I spread myself too thin.

Yes I have spread myself too thin.
Spent too much time daydreaming.
Don't tell mom Im not eating.
At least I'm not shooting heroin.

Winners before the votes were in,
they send their saints to go marching in.
And as we watch countries cave in,
I thank God I'm thin but not that thin.

Angry Song
Where is this place you're taking me?
You know I scare so easily.
I bite my nails and smoke way too much.
So if I get lung cancer,then you'll be to blame for it all.

Do you mean everything you say?
Don't you tire of carrying on that way?
I opened up and you let me in.
So if that don't mean nothing, you should be ashamed of yourself.

CREDITS
All words and music by Colin Smith.
Produced by Colin Smith.
Co-produced by Tim Mitchell.
Special production credit to Rob Calder and Jay Barclay.
Recorded at Clinton Recording, NYC by Tim Mitchell. Additional Recording at Cutting Cane, Miami by Joe Vilicic.
Additional Recording by Jon D’Uva.
Strings Recorded at Skyline Studios, NYC by Tim Mitchell.
Strings Conducted & Arranged by Silas Huff.
Mixed by Jon Kaplan.
Mastered at Sterling Sound, NYC by Dave McNair.
Colin Smith: Vocals on all songs; Acoustic Guitar on all songs except 5; Electric Guitars on tracks 5&9; Piano on 9.
Jay Barclay: Electric Guitars on all except 5&10.
Rob Calder: Bass Guitar on all except 5.
Jon Loyd: Piano on 1,4,6,8,10; Keyboards on 1,3,6,8,9.
Mathias Schuber: Piano on 3, 5; Keyboards on 7.
Peter Adams: Keyboards on 2.
Matt Johnson: Small and Regular Drumkits on 2.
Phil Cimino: Drums & Percussion on 8.
Ezra Oklan: Drums on 1,3,4,6,7,9; Percussion on 1,3,6,7,8,9.
Benji Lee: Drums & Percussion on 10.
Ari Hest: Backing Vocals on 4,6,8,10.
John Schreiber: Mandolin & Bouzouki on 8.
Gerald Menke: Pedal Steel on 6.
Dan McLoughlin: Accordion on 7.
Thad DeBrock: Harmonium & Casio on 10.

The Wilderness Artwork
By Sanjini Wadugodapitiya and Maurice Redmond
www.sanjini.com 
www.mauriceredmond.com