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Dirty Projectors
Dirty Projectors


Background information
Origin Brooklyn, New York, United States
Genre(s) Experimental
Indie
Years active 2002—present
Label(s) Domino Records
Dead Oceans
Website Website
Members
Dave Longstreth
Nat Baldwin
Amber Coffman
Angel Deradoorian
Haley Dekle
Brian Mcomber
Former members
Ezra Koenig
Rostam Batmanglij
Sam Bernstein
Alex Farrill
Adam Forkner
Will Glass
Spencer Kingman
Charlie Looker
Hank Miller
James Sumner
Susanna Waiche
Jake Longstreth



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  D  →  Dirty Projectors  →  Albums  →  The Getty Address

Dirty Projectors Album



2005
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. . .



I sit on the ridge at dusk,
as the light leaves the valley by rising.

Trees, fingers clutch at it,
vaguely sifting the light and dying.

So bleed sarcophagi romantically--
re-bleed with dignifying re-constructive make-up.


. . .



but in the headlights
of those all heading home,
all turned on as night came:

and flowing as a stream
of bonding, unbonding
molecules, their light came:

a highway arcs across my hill,
came out as dusk came down on it.
the day hid it in
soft
dead
leaves.


. . .



with a longing upward and out,
to meet those rosy slopes,
and explode into them
before they erode:

the failing time flattens out
like the optimism of the old,
whose tribulation has become rosy.

my star could crest
parabolic
over the etched stream
and its etching.


. . .



i will truck
faster than the world revolves
i will jet
spirals 'round the leaves as they fall

i'll turn faster than they stay in their seasons.
in revolving it changes--
and i don;t trust the axis
or the allies.

eh leve woul speh hey raal don aon on.
(the leaves will spiral down one by one.)


. . .


There's a lake of black gold
There's an island, place
Of my great battle
There's an eagle and a snake

Graceful your evasions
That allow me pursuit
I love you

. . .


They wear their leaves like Warholian wigs

Kangarwomb

If she had not paved
In memoriam their wounds
With gilt gold scabs

I dream of resting

Kangarwomb

. . .


I am ex-centripetal
And weary from wandering
Pondering what I could mean
Staring into pods and puddles
When the mud muddles my vision clean
Made clear by the rippling

. . .


Maybe the truth in searching
Is not having found

. . .


I will be for you
A tour guide around the fields this afternoon
The field of battle lies along the riverside
Between two ridges and a cluster of low hills

Please remember:
Battlefields aren't picked out by choice or favor
It might be tough to see that, not so distantly
This field was theatre to a great and might way

. . .



jolly jolly jolly ego,
you fit in.
you fit in, jully jolly jolly.
let the water bead
off your naked shoulders.

"clung to obstinate--
like an old love letter
boxed in her back pocket
lacking love, or living saliva:
dried blood--like a
wax seal, scabbing regal."


. . .


Time birthed spilled blood
For to mine as oil yours

We will settle here
On the plain
This be our island

. . .


May we all benefit from the legacy of the fallen
Petrified, pressed, minted for profit

Ad this will be our final stop
I want to guide you toward the gift shop
Thank you all for being so pleasant

. . .



chorus:
---------------
i love you?
----------------
---------------
i love you
---------------

dave longstreth:
who is the surgeon?
who is colonist?
in time you will know
the last wilderness

female chorus:
---------
who is the surgeon?
who is colonist?
in time you will know
the last wilderness

dave:
so may you restful be
in time, in time
do not colonize
the insides, the insides

chorus:
who is the surgeon?
who is colonist?
in time you will know
the last wilderness

who is the surgeon?
who is colonist?
in time you will know
the last wilderness


. . .


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