Meaning

by Peter Bruce Wilder

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credits

released January 3, 2004

Recorded August-December 2003, in Vermont.
Additional Vocals By Lynda Anne Indelicato Wilder
All compositions, performance, recording and mastering by Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2003 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

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Tundra Records Group Artists Hyde Park, Vermont

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Track Name: Believe
Believe
10-28-03
Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2004 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

here’s a line to open
hoping you don’t blow it
don’t let them see your coping
don’t let them see you owe it.
keeping out of daylight
contrast is revealing
atmospheric pressure
keeps it all from squealing
did you ever try to tell me
did you ever really believe
were you in that moment in love with me..?
(I’d have seen it in your eyes – where there’s no compromise)
anybody looking would have known…
huddled in position
sleepless dreams evading
rolling into nothing
memories aren’t fading
everytime I see you
hope claws out of hiding
then pounds my heart to pieces
undisclosed inviting
did you ever try to tell me
did you ever really believe
for that moment were you in love with me..?
(I’d have seen it in your eyes – where there’s no compromise)
anybody looking would have known
watching you in motion
diving for your ocean
your smell intoxicating
years passed in the waiting
every time these misses
should have been the kisses
bullet – should have bit it
why can’t I admit it
did I ever try to tell you
would you ever really believe
forever I’ve been in love with you…
(I’d have seen it in your eyes – where there’s no compromise)
anybody looking should have known
Track Name: It Doesn't Matter
It doesn’t matter
07-09-03
Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2001 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

It doesn’t matter just what I do
It doesn’t matter just what I say
It doesn’t matter how much I cry
You won’t see me anyway

It doesn’t matter just where I go
It doesn’t matter just who I see
It doesn’t matter how much I run
You won’t follow anyway

Take the train blow by the suburbs
Take the train until the final ride
Take the pain beyond the brewpubs
Take the pain ‘til it starts to hide

Follow paths deep into forests
Follow paths until you’re all alone
Follow paths ‘til you ignore it
Follow paths ‘til the pain is gone

You wouldn’t listen to the words I said
You wouldn’t look at what was on my face
You wouldn’t feel the yearning in my touch
You wouldn’t even take the time

You wouldn’t answer when I called you up
You wouldn’t answer when the letter came
You wouldn’t answer all the emails sent
You wouldn’t even dodge the blame

Take the train blow by the suburbs
Take the train until the final ride
Take the pain beyond the brewpubs
Take the pain ‘til it starts to hide

Follow paths deep into forests
Follow paths until you’re all alone
Follow paths ‘til you ignore it
Follow paths ‘til the pain is gone

Leaving love in separate space
competing for the second place
Ignoring all the history strewn
upon the nights of waning moon

And taking all there was of us
to pack it head out on a bus
With no note left no words
of why no show down at the crack of noon

Imploding with an epic wail
of why you left your comet’s tail
To shine on through
the empty nights reminding of the moments heat
And as the last of embers die
they leave your image in my eyes
I wonder if this is just me,
I guess it’s not so take a seat…

It doesn’t matter…
Track Name: Strobe
Strobe
08-03-03
Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2004 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

What were you thinking as you drove away
Willing to chance giving up all you had
Willing to chill it and call it a day
Wondering if I’d still admit I was mad

What did you feel as you ticked off the miles
Tempting the fates and the fog of unknown
Was there a longing, was there revelations?
The futures all passing your cover all blown

Whine of the pavement strobe of the dashed lines
Signs blurring past you in the gray melded dark
Is someone beside you, filling the empty?
Words of the prophets and the song of the lark

What do you see as you contemplate distance
Imposing an air wall of thousands of miles
Sure you’ve got phone lines and letters and email
The fortress well kept, I can’t see your smile

When did you know that the journey was over
How could you trust the destination as fate
How is this grass still greener than that one
You buzz through these flowers
and hope love will wait

Whine of the pavement strobe of the dashed lines
Signs blurring past you in the gray melded dark
Is someone beside you, filling the empty?
Words of the prophets and the song of the lark

What do you run from – and whom are you serving
Impossible paths with such impossible climbs
And all those who love you, are they deserving?
Or lost in your vapor trails, and caught in your rhymes

Whine of the pavement strobe of the dashed lines
Signs blurring past you in the gray melded dark
Is someone beside you, filling the empty?
Words of the prophets and the song of the lark
Track Name: Rage will Quiet
The rage will quiet
05-16-2000
Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2004 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

Fair skinned, the store clerk glares
He can’t get over their darker skin
The sorrow and hate of his own life flares
And finds a home in these unknown kin

The woman smooths her business suit
Declares the realm of her domain
Exports the rotting lack of competence
Falls on her staff like acid rain

But me, I guess I’m done with it
I’ve grown so tired of little minds
The nautilus of self served pathways
The empty nests, the barren pools
Somewhere up north there is an echo
Bouncing ‘round the pine-spun hills
Love’s the only thing that matters
The rage will quiet, this fever cools

The father whips a cruel remark
In earshot of his growing sons
They breathe his words as molten truth
Within two weeks they’ve found his guns

Insecurity’s long tentacles
Knot up inside a weakened heart
And drain what drops of happiness
Lay hidden from an infant start

But me, I guess I’m done with it
I’ve grown so tired of little minds
The nautilus of self served pathways
The empty nests, the barren pools
Somewhere up north there is an echo
Bouncing ‘round the pine-spun hills
Love’s the only thing that matters
The rage will quiet, this fever cools

The senator blooms up in a bluster
Accusing those who aren’t like her
She knows the rules, and to enforce them
Her rules, her world, all confer

The billionaire sits on his island
Watching waves crash on the reefs
Crashing like his recent lay-offs
Rationalized to changed beliefs

But me, I guess I’m done with it
I’ve grown so tired of little minds
The nautilus of self served pathways
The empty nests, the barren pools
Somewhere up north there is an echo
Bouncing ‘round the pine-spun hills
Love’s the only thing that matters
The rage will quiet, this fever cools
Track Name: There Must Be An Island
there must be an island
07-25-03
Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2004 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

child/woman in a tie-dye shirt
arresting all eyes - the anti-gravity show
social weapons testing begins so young
the pheromones dance and have no place to go

the heavy rap carries a long quarter mile
indifferent to hearing they laugh while inside
the vehicle’s worth barely equals the cost
the subwoofer bellows - a new hunter’s pride

the band puts on make-up intended to scare
their fans do the same and descend to short words
and hate becomes easy - entitlement flares
the concept of service abandoned, absurd

there must be an island of sanity somewhere
where nature’s the teacher, and love runs too deep
if life’s implications are just paths in the process
find me the end of the road and allow me to sleep

standing in line while 20 counters are closed
threading the paths of a touch tone maze
holding the phone for an underpaid cuber
losing ten thousand jobs for the new chairman’s raise

leaving the message and never getting a call
at the convenience store man,
I should be checking for pulse
another farmer goes under and the houses go in
nobody moves yet fingers point to the faults

the glimmer of light looming large in the darkness
ignoring all reason, and opportunities lost
she floats toward the heat of equatorial suns
her network of friends begins to be lost

there must be an island of sanity somewhere
where nature’s the teacher, and love runs too deep
if life’s implications are just paths in the process
find me the end of the road and allow me to sleep
Track Name: When We Were Giants
when we were giants
07-25-03
Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2004, Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

beacon of hope for your tired your poor
these teaming masses awaiting the chance
upload their wages to the boardroom floor
the hungry go starving as the four hundred dance

when we were giants we stood for a cause
we valued the reasons we valued our choice
when we were giants we reached for the sky
when we were giants we stood for a pause

lifting our difference into one single voice
when we were giants we always asked why
masses still huddling from each new fear imposed
children by millions estranged and confused

tossed by the tempest - multimedia dosed
growing the storms that will use and abuse
when we were giants we stood for a cause
we valued the reasons we valued our choice

when we were giants we reached for the sky
when we were giants we stood for a pause
lifting our difference into one single voice
when we were giants we always asked why

icons tossed up as the imagery blooms
swaths being cut through each continent’s eyes
decisions still made by the un-chosen few
and apathy reigns with a burger and fries

when we were giants we stood for a cause
we valued the reasons we valued our choice
when we were giants we reached for the sky
when we were giants we stood for a pause
lifting our difference into one single voice
when we were giants we always asked why
Track Name: Glory Road
Glory Road
11-10-03
Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2004 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

take the freedom and the money and the prize
the unobserved ripples
have all grown to monster size
when was the look away
so long to keep unrecognized
the substitution methods
where the truth’s replaced by lies

hold the phone Amelia I hope you’re sitting down
‘cause the fate everything
rests on the musings of a clown
vacuum points of power
being sucked from every town
soon we’ll all be running
from the evil smell of brown

It’s ever known – the glory road
It’s overblown – and never told
It’s covered up – ‘til overload
It’s ever known – the glory road
(Give me just a hundred billion bucks…)

hold a trillion metric tons of bombs on boats
and move them to positions
where they’ll try and stay afloat
and don’t consider talking
with those teeny weenie folks
whose teeny weenie countries
will surely buy the hoax

hold the phone Amelia I hope that you can cope
‘cause the fate everything
rests on the musings of a dope
puppet or the puppeteer won’t matter on this slope
soon we’ll all be running from our own decaying hope

It’s ever known – the glory road
It’s overblown – and never told
It’s covered up – ‘til overload
It’s ever known – the glory road
(Give me just a hundred billion bucks…)
Track Name: Meaning
Meaning
08-27-03
Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2004 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

I can hear it now – can’t you?
the calling away – the calling to
the heart urges – and the mind still waits
the fever purges and procrastinates

she never told me that she loved me
lots of murmurs held then freed
and all this time her distant eyes
have always failed to recognize

I see this wrinkled canvas – bare
create new worlds – create – CREATE
what meaning is there in despair
what good is hope that comes too late

show me the reasons for this world I’ve built
does everybody do this dance with guilt?
guilt for all history – guilt for these words
time shows we’re mortal, fame just absurd

sand slips through fingers held way too tight
I thought I held oceans – so far from right
conforming these forests to footpaths inside
if destiny’s planned, when did I miss the ride?

I see this wrinkled canvas – bare
create new worlds – create – CREATE
what meaning is there in despair
what good is hope that comes too late

the weight of all this now acquired
created pressure makes me tired
and self created reasons for
these purgatories at my door

and if I told you one more time
and if the call was on my dime
would you still hang up alone
and leave me with the dial tone

I see this wrinkled canvas – bare
create new worlds – create – CREATE
what meaning is there in despair
what good is hope that comes too late
Track Name: Grey Fade Dark
Gray Fade Dark
08-02-03
Peter Bruce Wilder
copyright 2004 Maplewood/Earlines, BMI

I wonder what value the truth really has
A proper society revolves around lies
Some are quite harmless, most are contentious
They hover like songbirds but cluster like flies

What good would exposing one’s soul really do
When such an advantage these others could gain
Do atheists have any faith in the living
And do the devoted believe in their pain

Watching the rain gently roll off of the branches
Down into the ground and absorbed by small stream
The streams become larger - then rivers, then oceans
And sun burned again they become the sky’s dream

Whatever became of the idea of goddess
The giver of living and maker of all
How long can these men keep the stolen light hidden
How long will we wait ‘til we realize the fall

What do I need to fulfill a life’s promise
Can happy occur through abundance of things?
Does might still succeed as a practical winner –
Economical circus in one giant ring

Everyone sees their own cross and they bear it
Escaping through chemicals, A/V and more
Kindness becomes one more calcified relic
And rarely appears from its rusty old door

Marrow and bone, wrapped in fat-muscle-skin
Fluids still pumping, these systems still whole
Function descends automatic, reactive
The most basic desire over mind over soul