Sessions with Molly

by Blood Like the Atlantic

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1.
03:25
2.

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One man, one guitar, a laptop mic, and Audacity.

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released January 27, 2013

Chris Puzzo- Nylon string guitar, vocals, trumpet

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Blood Like the Atlantic Boston, Massachusetts

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Track Name: Icarus Wings
When the snow melts and Boston thaws it will not matter how I felt,
And as the creature lifts its claws I can only hope that it finds my throat.
'Cause I can't see winning with an empty heart in lieu of fists
and I see no reason that I should be a part of this.
Our demons have destroyed this thing;
I am flying with Icarus wings.

Paralyzed at the end of the road we've nothing to say and nothing to show.
The carpet is stained and the blood is our own, and soon we'll set a direct course for the sun
And as we're burning up we'll see
flocks of birds just desperate to be free.
But year after year they find themselves enslaved,
so they count the years 'til they earn a grave.

Can we carry on?
Will we carry on?
Why should we carry on?
Who will know if we're gone?

But I can't watch you drown, my friend.
I won't let you slip away.
I won't let you down, my friend-
I will find a way.
Track Name: Checkers, Chess, Russian Roulette
At 2 o' clock we were happy here
By 3 we were all in tears
By 5, though, I'm sure we will all forget
That our world had come undone just two hours ago
When it comes down to it
The choice seems easy.
No games of checkers
No time for chess
We prefer Russian Roulette

The next day was the hardest
and still it's one I regret.
Though I can't remember I'm sure there was something we missed.
But it doesn't matter
The book is finished, the author dead
It sold a million copies though
marking his death a success.

So we'll sing and we'll dance
and we'll drink and we'll laugh
all the while dying inside.
We took the journey
before we were told
that there would be no way back.
But still we're all cowards
so no one will say
that they want to go back home.
After all, the devil told us
it would feel better this way.

25 years isn't long enough
but it seems that it's all that we get
it's a shame I must admit.
But the devil feels no regret.
I can not remember what we were aiming for
but it's clear that we missed the mark.
Though we seemed successful then
I forgot to remember to forget.

So now no on this cold, grey night
we look up hoping to see stars
but all we get is a persistent reminder
of just how far we can fall.
I forgive you
though it was all my fault.
Some call it art, but here's the tragedy:
the book was read by no one at all.

So we'll sing and we'll dance
and we'll drink and we'll laugh
all the while dying inside.
We took the journey
before we were told
that there would be no way back.
But still we're all cowards
so no one will say
that they want to go back home.
After all, the devil told us
it would feel better this way.