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Forthcoming
Four tracks, 15 minutes

Written & Recorded By Patrick Swain Mastering Nick Ceppaglia Additional Contribution Mary Catherine Swain (Guitar, Track 2)

1. Fiddler on the Doorknob 03:36

I was fiddling with the doorknobs when the doctors came and said you’d arrived Drowning my sorrows in a box of sun maid raisins all of three foot five Born under a waxing crescent I thought I was a clover in the rocks And in a bid for others’ affections I closed an open door and changed the locks Crying on your chalk piéce de resistance sprawled across the driveway, you didn’t fall that hard Digging out a mansion in the snowbank, contrast and creation in the backyard Laying in the hallway, cutting English, missing mathematics, running about See the rebel and the little goody-two-shoes individually figure it out It’s been too long, too long It’s been too long, too long It’s been too long, too long It’s been too long, too long

2. Manchego Stonehenge 03:51

Rambling down an Andalusian riverbank Pretending that I’m talking on the phone Maybe I’d hypothesized I’d feel like someone else away from home Oh, so far away from home In Lisbon I was wishing things could stay the same In Soho I was sobbing in an alleyway The blanket smelled like cigarettes Roman ruins and minarets It’s lovely but not home It’s lovely but not home The morning of my 20th birthday, I fled my bed and flew to Marseille My love lived in a flat not far away Through reunions in city squares and plane connections, subway fares I believed she’d never leave but it’s ok Sitting at a bus depot with a backpack full of dirty clothes Stumbling through Vienna in the rain Waking up on unknown land and sleeping on Saharan sand My corner of the world’s where my mind stayed

3. Fine Game of Nil 03:59

Freezing underneath the sheets Restless in a rented home Years of scrambling toward the peak but Twenty three’s a mere plateau I’m still and sober, high and hectic Disaffected, second-guessing Nil I’m sulking in superposition Contradicting fact and fiction Nil I’m worn out waiting by the window But I don’t wish to kiss the ring I’m sick of swimming laps in limbo Still I wouldn’t change a thing How can I sit idle while climbing the hill Why am I perpetually playing a fine game of nil Just don’t change a thing Just don’t change a thing Still and sober, high and hectic Disaffected, dialectic Nil Sulking in superposition Contradicting fact and fiction Nil

4. Paris of Appalachia 03:42

You’ll go back to California in the morning Leave me where you found me yesterday When the sunlight hits your eyes you’ll rise and fly toward the horizon On Friday night we called each other strangers By Sunday I’d have known you my whole life How easy these arise from arrival to goodbyes Now I’m not the type to get so sentimental These kinds of things just make me feel alone When love lives on a deadline, how I wish we had some more time You went back to California in the morning To leave me in my flyover states We were 22, it felt like something to do

Paris of Appalachia

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Paris of Appalachia

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