You Make A Better Door Than A Window

by Daniel hales, and the frost heaves.

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credits

released July 15, 2012

All words & music by Daniel Hales
Produced by Daniel Hales & Norm Demoura
Engineered & mixed by Norm Demoura at Harmonium Studios, Haydenville & Southampton, Mass.
Atari beats, Mr. T beats, sound collages and Spare Halo recorded by Daniel Hales at Algorythm Analog, Greenfield, Mass.
Mastered by Mike Quinn at Moontower, Somerville, Mass.

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Track Name: Halo Over My Horns
Some nights my love and I lie
and our bed of roses has no thorns
That’s when I feel the halo growing over my horns
Honey you’re an angel, make me feel reborn
in the light of your halo glowing over my horns

Yesterday I laughed so hard I shook off my scorn
and felt instead a halo growing over my horns
And when I die you can cover up this tired face I’ve worn
But you can’t touch the halo glowing over my horns

If someday the sun didn’t wake each inch of earth it adorns
we’d search the dark with our haloes high-beaming over our horns
Without love my world would implode
and I’d have no one left to mourn
just the flames of inferno blazing under my horns
Track Name: Better Door
You make a better door than a window
‘cause you’re easier to pass through than look into
If the more I see the less I know
in the end I’ll know you less than I begin to

You make a better floor than a ceiling
’cause you adore watching a grown man kneeling
And the more I endure what the floor is for
the less I’m sure I know what I am feeling

You make a better door than a window...
Track Name: Bubble Test
I did pretty bad on the bubble test
I only knew two and I guessed the rest
I made a cool pattern on my answer sheet
till the bubbles all blurred and I fell asleep

My eraser’s always gone long before my lead
There’s just too much going on inside my head
And I never would have gotten out of bed
if I’d known about the bubble test

My No. 2 pencil became a tall tree
and all afternoon we swayed and creaked
I woke up when the proctor sneezed
It was time to pass in my answer sheet
It was time for computers to assess me

My eraser’s always gone long before my lead…
Track Name: Singing in the Breakdown Lane
I was driving through the pounding rain one night
with my tape deck, wipers, and my check engine light
The world had been reduced to black and white
drained of reasons to retain my sight
Then I took flight

Trying to change a flat tire in the rain
after learning what it is to hydroplane
I searched the entire trunk for my spare
but the donut must’ve shrunk into thin air
I know it’s rare for a scarecrow to complain
that’s why I’m singing in the breakdown lane

I’d been singing in some hipster bar that night
for applause closer to indifferent than polite
Couldn’t tell if the crowd was just uptight
or maybe just a little bit too white
They wouldn’t take flight

Trying to change a flat tire in the rain…

Singing in the breakdown lane
Nobody stopped, they must’ve thought I was insane
with my thumb out again
Glad I brought enough songs to outlast this rain

As you’re driving down the highway of life
(a metaphor we’ve heard before, so overused and trite)
make damn sure that you love the songs you bring
’cause when you’re all alone in that breakdown lane
they’re friends that you can sing…

Trying to change a flat tire in the rain…
Track Name: Braille For God
The branches that the storm brought down
are scattered all across the lawn
and the sparrow’s nest is gone

The shadows yesterday had drawn
begin to reappear at dawn
except the ones reclaimed by the sun
A banner on the overpass
for a soldier coming home at last
and the loving hands that tied it fast

Each shoulder shrug, each head that nods
each headstone placed above the sod
is a kind of braille for God
Track Name: Woman Inside My Head
The dog needs a walkin’, the lawn’s lookin’ shockin’
the weeds want for pullin’ and my pocket watch was stolen
but the woman that is stuck inside my head won’t let me be

The cat needs a brushin’, the floor needs a sweepin’
the rugs want a beatin’, and my coffee needs some sweetenin’
but the woman that is stuck inside my head won’t let me be

A woman’s love is a priceless thing
Some try to lease it with a diamond ring
Buy her the kitchen sink and everything
That kind of love will always lose its bling
A woman can live inside your head for years
never knowing she’s the cause of your tears

But my tires need alignin’, the toilet needs a plungin’
the taxes want a filin’ and my eyeballs need some Visine
but the woman that is stuck inside my head won’t let me be

The roof needs a patchin’, the fridge needs some rations
the basement needs a wet vac and my liver needs a six pack
but the woman that is stuck inside my head won’t let me be

The past is an atlas stuffed under your seat
Each time you pull it out you rip another sheet
Half the streets are gone and the rest have changed
just like my ex-girlfriends’ maiden names
Don’t read that atlas while you’re changin’ lanes
or you will wind up in an ambulance

But my dog needs a walkin’…
Track Name: Sick Day
You took a Monday sick day, you had to, there’s no other way
you’d stay sane till Friday came around again
Wear a disguise, you never know whose eyes your eyes will meet
at the crosswalk where Main colludes with Federal Street

And try to imagine how a fish feels, eyeballs soaking wet
Take a drag, smell the cornfields, tighten your tourniquet
And clear your head before you lapse into regret

Kick a pinecone past the people running late for work
and flattened squirrels that lacked the skills to swerve
Orange-scrubbed inmates spreading bright red mulch in Veterans Park
their armed guard counts the hours till his life can start

and tries to imagine how a fish feels...

The maples lean towards you, whispering, “Forget
that soon our leaves catch flames a shade of orange sherbet”
See the berries growing brighter every day
Soon their blood will stain your teeth as they part to say:

­Try to imagine how a fish feels…
Track Name: All My Best Worrying
I’ll never be alone as long as my worries stand beside me
’Cause worry’s like a second home with padded walls
to safely confine me

While you’re sleeping and I lie awake until the dawn
listening to our old and dying appliances hum
That’s when I get all my best worrying done…

Someone’s crying over the coffins of everyone I love
up in the cold gray attic of my cerebellum
That’s how I get all my best worrying done…

I oversee construction of a tiny hell
where me and all my pet worries can dwell
It’s real estate you can get for cheap but never sell
And that’s where I get all my best worrying done…

I’ve got so many bills to pay, so many plans to make
regrets to revisit, stupid mistakes
I’ve left so much unfinished, undone, unbegun
And that’s why I get all my best worrying done…
Track Name: All The Owes In Tomorrow
All the o’s in tomorrow o o o…

My future days are on layaway
I pay with funds I’ve borrowed
And the interest owed on my yesterdays
can’t be paid with strums on my gu­itar, oh

All the ohs in tomorrow oh oh oh…

Time carves its lines into my grain
leaves me feeling hollow
then stuffs me so full of memories
I find it hard to swallow

All the owes in tomorrow owe owe owe…
Track Name: Present Perfect Tents
I’ve pitched my present perfect tents
on a fault line in the sky
There’s no point in asking why
I’m rocked to sleep by the suspense

Cast the beam out of your eyes
before you seek the mote in mine
Build a drawbridge over time
lower it like your last disguise

I ripped a page out of the light
and though every word’s a lie
the truth is each one tries
to win another losing fight

I’ve pitched my present perfect tents…
Track Name: You Make A Better Door Than A Window
You make a better door than a window
‘cause you’re easier to pass through than look into
If the more I see the less I know
in the end I’ll know you less than I begin to

You make a better floor than a ceiling
’cause you adore watching a grown man kneeling
And the more I endure what the floor is for
the less I’m sure I know what I am feeling

You make a better shore than an ocean
’cause you move without a visible motion
And the more the waves distort you
then the more you’re just the sum of your erosion

You make a better war than a battle
a decade up the creek without a paddle
and the more you try to even the score
the more they’ll knock your ass out of the saddle

You make a better door than a window...