Live Compilation

by Jimmy Gibson

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Mix of Live Performances

Recommended Tracks - Queen of the Mountain, and Hide Yourself (Sunday).

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released February 11, 2017

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Jimmy Gibson Ottawa, Ontario

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Track Name: Queen of the Mountain
There’s a man still on the corner talks about candles as the sun
It gets shorter, wax poetic, lacks his ice cold ambition
Scratches teeth upon the pavement as he looks for anyone
To pick a bone with

The angel of forgiveness is forgetting all her lines
Checking out of her hotel room, credit shattered and declined
She takes the first wrong turn of many picking grapes up of the vine
To be alone with

The stars to light up, all but shadowed by his clumsy faults
You can tell he lost the way among the left foot robot waltz
He’s stumbling in masculinity his brain still somersaults
It’s you he’s thrown with

It’s just a loaded deck of jokers around you, the queen of the mountain
It’s just peace and those who broker all the war, that still surrounds it
And in those misty shades of ochre it comes through, in fact it resounds it
It’s just a loaded deck of jokers around you, the queen of the mountain

The moon sets up a swan song interrupted by the cries
Of a panicked, startled middle class with degrees to wipes their eyes
Mid tempo rock and roll bands do the same with their disguise
Still hasn’t struck them

The drill machines are quiet, between law and keeping jobs
With the pin-ups and the jokers, who behind the scenes still rob
All the dignity from bankers, all the charm from their heartthrobs
It must be luck then

Between the lightning bolts, the thunder and the silence in between
It’s hard to tell the difference between you and what you mean
It’s hard to tell the difference between you and what you’ve seen
They’ll come unstuck then

It’s just a loaded deck of jokers around you, the queen of the mountain
It’s just peace and those who broker all the war, that still surrounds it
And in those misty shades of ochre it comes through, in fact it resounds it
It’s just a loaded deck of jokers around you, the queen of the mountain

Definitively cautious I’ll now explain just how it works
With false prophets and the icons behind whom they all must lurk
It’s hard to tell who’s lying and who runs between the clerks
And I don’t want to

Don’t think me bitter, loving hating or pretentiously inane
I think I sort of swear it to you through my poetry migraine
By now your not even listening to stuttered rhyme refrain
And I don’t blame you

The angel of forgiveness and her passion back to shine
She was all the people, objects and was way before her time
Still she moves on her nostalgia repeating all her other lines
Until she came through

It’s just a loaded deck of jokers around you, the queen of the mountain
It’s just peace and those who broker all the war, that still surrounds it
And in those misty shades of ochre it comes through, in fact it resounds it
It’s just a loaded deck of jokers around you, the queen of the mountain
Track Name: Love Lives Lonely Lovers
Wait for me, lady cries
Screaming trains, rainfall eyes
Stars around, paper weights
Screaming trains, empty gates
I won’t forget, your pretty face
Screaming trains, another place

We’ve lost control of who and where we want to be
But here’s a rose, here’s a rose, so set me free

There’s a war, as you can tell
Restless feet, living hell
I want to walk, I want to dream
Restless feet it’s what it’s been
Colours paint themselves untied
Restless feet, love to hide

We’ve lost control of who and where we want to be
But here’s a rose, here’s a rose, so set me free

Don’t fall apart, you pretty thing
Lover’s eyes, pale diamond ring
Glassy waves, blacked out names
Lover’s eyes, sinners games
Don’t fall apart he hears him say
Lover’s eyes, he’s gone away

We’ve lost control of who and where we want to be
But here’s a rose, here’s a rose so set me free
Here’s a rose and I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be
Here’s a rose, here’s a rose, so set me free
Track Name: Art (Denial)
The singer clutches dice
As the rearview mirror shows her things too close to care
She hides herself away
The backseat passengers and critics float into the air
Everybody did her wrong
That means you and I and all the people who are never there
“I’m sorry honey,
Put out your cigarette they can’t afford so much to spare”

Paintings of mistakes,
All the self portraits
Red to prove they’re nothing like Picasso
Paintings of forgiveness
Blank and empty
What else can I seem to say

Imagination clings to nightmares
It’s hard to sleep when you’re afraid to close your eyes
“Darling I’m not welcome”
He says and shakes his hand up to his head up to this skies
Singer sees herself get anxious
There’s nothing she can do, “Don’t even try”
He says again,
Desperately this time around, breaking past tender disguise

Talking Heads songs play softer than they should
Floods through the floors, wear through the wood
Talking Heads songs play softer than they should
Floods through the floors, wear through the wood

This singer clutches dice
As the rearview mirror shows her things too close to care
Track Name: Trying to Get Rid of a Headache
I was there when David Bowie died
The radio was on and I’m sure he was playing his favourite song
Anything that sounds like Dylan,
Waves of synthesizers rush my brain, like the ice that was formed when the rain hit the ground
I was there, lying in bed,
Looking like those Cowboy Junkies as the sun turns around the wrong corner, it’s getting late
Boredom kinda feels like you’re about to go through surgery
So I sleep, and the rain fills my ears but I dream of that time in Dominican,

I can’t find you anymore, it’s just first names and
Really terrible ideas to call our bands, but you take it to far and try to name our children
That’s all I can remember but I wake up alone,
The sun found the place and theres a war on the driveway and in my head
So I take two Tylenol, but it doesn’t do shit
So I walk downstairs, and fall asleep as if I were stuck in a hurricane
Easier said than done, so I try to phone you,
But there’s no names in my phone that remind me of you, so I don’t

It’s later now, same as always
So I walk over to the kitchen and I take two more Tylenol, but they don’t do shit
I turn on the radio again,
It’s not Bowie, but I feel like he wrote it, or played piano on it or something
It doesn’t really matter
But I still like the way Iggy Pop describes being a passenger,
Leaving the kitchen now
I turn back to the war on my front lawn and ask them all to stop fighting

They call me a hippie,
And a lunatic, but that’s not my concern, I just want to get my head to stop hurting
So I imagine they were you,
But I can’t really picture your face that well anymore, it’s pretty blurry
So they look like they showed up
Out of some kind of prank video that I don't really like, but still are inevitably popular
Where the guy acts kind of like an asshole
But doesn’t get convicted, man he’s living the dream

Speaking of dreams it’s getting pretty late again,
So I take two more Tylenol and fall asleep to the sound of a slightly less painful hurricane
And when I wake up the whole thing starts again
There are two little backwards arrows you can press if you want to hear about it
So I’ll leave it there, and
Let all you literary analysts go over this, until you discover
That this is really just about trying to get rid
Of a headache, with a love song in the backdrop, if you’d like
Track Name: Hide Yourself (Sunday)
Sounds and signals, speaking soft, not quite right
Flying by, evergreen stars, black as night
On the wings, in the thoughts, of a poem recite
Hide yourself, to yourself, it’s a fiery sight

Looking up, constellations, like vigils of stars
Deathly quiet, gravely still, we wait in our cars
Streets and markets, heard it in the closing of bars
Hide yourself, to yourself, it can’t be that far

Sunday trails off
Like voices, haunted and new
Sunday trails off
Like you just couldn't do

Fall in love, fall apart, memory ties fate
In hotel rooms, out with lights, it’s getting too late
Strings and sirens, wings and wires, rusted down plates
Hide yourself, to yourself, meet me at the gate

Sunday trails off
Like voices, born again new
Sunday trails off
Like you just couldn't do

Down the street, past the traffic, staring down lights
Open doors, pouring out, scared of the heights
Strain to see, pain that he, would hide in the white
Hide yourself, to yourself, it’s a sobering sight

Sunday trails off
Like clouds, movingly true
Sunday trails off
Like the plants, covered in dew
Sunday trails off
If only, you knew
Sunday trails off
Like you just couldn’t do