European Tour 2003 (CD) (Sorry - San Francisco) September 2003 - aka "Funeral Diner ...is dead" 200 printed CD-R's in silk-screened envelopes Sold only on 2003 European tour (sold out) 1) Yeah, You Remember That 2) A true Triumph Of Man Vs. Machine 3) Welcome To My Book Collection 4) Chameleon 5) Wearing Thin 6) City Of Webs 7) Shifting 8) This Truly Is God's Country 9) Let Me Get A Few Practice Stabs Yeah, you remember that...- words spoken a from silver-tinged mouth. so easy to do the looking down when you're permanently entrenched on higher ground. say these words, cut this skin, sharpen the teeth and i'll bleed. as if bleeding was ever enough or you. turn me away, i'll laugh. wrapped up, packed, and on the path i made for myself. you can count on that and ascent with the pleasure of always being in the right. burn your name, and who you represent, and what you stand for. erase the pity signals, shave the meaning away, and destroy the message you always scream so loud. A True Triumph Of Man VS. Machine - building again, for every flaw we make something new. kill again, build again, killed again, tooled again. rusted away to show the decay, the true intent, and the smile that never touches eyes. stand in line, feel the blood drip down your forehead and blind your eyes. change the end and break down the unnecessary. and it buries and obscures. you need, you see. it moves, crushing. it ends, buried. and it changes nothing. glacial slow and crushing and avalanche of broken. we embrace with open arms and not much else until we all can't breathe and moving becomes the farthest thing from mind. what we can, or take or leave, behind us now and under the flow. Welcome To My Book Collection - "we are an island" he says the other man smiles and replies "we are indeed" in deed and in word we fool ourselves something can be done and nothing is clear or concise as the transmission of reason and clear thinking are slowly weeded out and the buried separation becomes the standard and everyday practice the drawing in becomes more complete with every downcast eye and mumbled word dead words on both sides and all the in betweens. "where do we stand?" echoes in the empty spaces never to be filled as the divisions continue being defined until everyone is the enemy with the collapsing comes a lust for revenge destroying more, ourselves not the least as we carry out what was screamed for. we forget screaming sounds weak over the rush of air and constant destruction and tears and empty words. Chameleon - Originally performed by Nexus 6 Wearing Thin - with your "burnt to the ground" and breaking haloes. It's been said once and a hundred times before so say it again. more posturing and masks. thinly veiled metaphors about "angels" can't hide your contempt. i'm not fooled and if you think about it for more than a minute, it's not okay. your hatred as an option to be made to be sold to be consumed to be absorbed like the paint-as-blood. on every cover of every sad little boy. so just give up and fade away. City Of Webs - welcome home, this is the last stop before a bunk bed enclosed in gray. the last great façade. welcome home again. In a scheme to point the finger. here's my trust, keep it well. paper clipped to a forgery is where you'll find it. welcome home again. speak in lost words. just say something. tell me anything. point that finger so twisted like mine. as if words could change the discarded time and let me feel. it's so hard to be the judge, save yourself, surely i can't. Shifting - these motives seem so long forgotten so please remind me why i'm in this chair again and please remind me what is the lesson learned because your mouth only moves so slightly leaving me clutching to what you've said words that are only cut and paste words supposed to make me feel for esperanza when she can only bleed me further dry shifting me sideways in this chair so please remind me why it's so the same and why it always hurts so bad This Truly Is God's Country - up to this point the story has been played out, sometimes failing, and sometimes in time. but always present and always feeling just this close to breaking. there was nowhere else to go and nowhere would have been right. hiding in corners, hoping for curtains or shadows to hide behind and change the colors of feeling. building something out of nothing again. a wall, a door, a pillar, and another place to live and change. changing again, transparent and out of focus, but with the best intentions always in mind. but always this close to breaking and the running away never helps. and the holes that you dig are always deeper, though better informed. (as much as it hurts) they were right when they said, "change is the only constant." so i'll keep this salt in my wound. so i can keep that in mind. Let Me Get A Few Practice Stabs - finished. Then we were all poisoned. The morning arrives and I'm numb. Through the fields sheeted in ice. You'll find me, we'll never have a home again. And they'll never find me again. So embrace this, it's what¹s left. But I'm still here, and I can still help you. Though nothing can make this right. Because words fall short like my breath. And your faith in me, so I'll finish this myself and tell you, every word I ever said I meant.