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Bashful Hips Vol​.​XIV

by Bashful Hips

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1.
01.Walls 02:20
I stole the time of fourteen months, To build walls tall enough that even the men from space could see But still sometimes, on a highway drives Like the dry dead leaves caught between your boot seams It gets to me, Memories of the times, before I even met Sydney Then we all try to remember, To remind ourselves not to do the opposite of breathing I took my shovel and I went out into the woods And I buried myself holding all our old records And I put metal to my foot, And I pushed into the dirt, And I’ve lasted harsher winters then you
2.
02.Science 01:46
In a life filled zeros and other numbers I did it for science I feel this photograph between my broken fingers But I don’t see an image clear My body responds like a boxer winded And through these broken fingers we hold nothing clear If I ever make it to France, I’d stay up all night and forget my jet lag Well I ‘am more than my job
3.
In the court of public opinion You always have to be wary of who the jury is And who are you? And who are you seeking the approval of? Broken men tend to take care of other dead men’s gardens And what does that mean? What does that mean to you? I hope my name leaves a bad taste in your mouth
4.
It’s sad like hearing the songs of a revolution that went all wrong Over the loud speakers at your local Wal-Mart And that’s dark And it’s sad that the 21st century, Well you know it makes sense to me And after thirteen dry months, Someone decided that it should rain And after thirteen months someone decided And I left cigarette butts and collapsed lungs In the wake of my stay, Does art define the man? And if it does, then I need to get away from my pen Being an artist means you don’t get a life You only get the right to write the moments
5.
I know it’s silly but I would like to see my songs turn into paintings Because you could then surround yourself and decide if it was right To black out your eyes one summer night Now does it feel right? I’ve learned and I’ve lost bad habits since that day And my new passion I know that you’d hang your head in shame I’ve been stealing spare change from wishing wells From people who were wishing that they could just forget your name
6.
You’re either blessed or your cursed with the D.N.A. of the last name you were given The mathematical equation of frustration it’s always changing Like shaking a can of paint our faces changed to the shape of our D.N.A. You’ve been avoiding the nuances of the reality that you needed Instead jumping into the insurmountable amount of information you knew you never needed And you know wherever you are, there’s another highway, That’s begging for another no named face For heels to scrape against the paint of pavements Another highway with a numbered name And I’ve been conscious of the new decisions that I decide to make Conscious that they don’t become a mistake
7.
It should be poetic that this story arc begins and ends with a crosswalk I turned and I walked away from you Now if we were to meet someday in the future I wouldn’t talk; I’d fix you a plate And we’d sit silent knowing that we both made some mistakes And the fate of conclusions can go so many different ways And after all this pain, I don’t have any answers My limbs repair and my legs are beginning to stand straight I’m learning to stand straight
8.
Why are there so many songs about rainbows and what's on the other side? Rainbows are visions, but only illusions, and rainbows have nothing to hide. So we've been told and some choose to believe it. I know they're wrong, wait and see. Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers and me. Who said that every wish would be heard and answered when wished on the morning star? Somebody thought of that and someone believed it. Look what it's done so far. What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing and what do we think we might see? Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers and me. All of us under its spell. We know that it's probably magic. Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? I've heard them calling my name. Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors. The voice might be one and the same. I've heard it too many times to ignore it. Is it something that I'm supposed to be? Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers and me. 

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released August 1, 2013

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Bashful Hips Chicago, Illinois

Bashful Hips is an Avant Garde project from the mind of Ian Fellerman. Bringing his sometimes searing, sometimes hilarious but always poignant observations to bear over an entire stable of Noise Rock/Hip Hop informed Electronica, Ian's music is never stable, always changing and searching for the sound to express his feelings.
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