The Cube (Year​-​of​-​EPs #5)

by Danny Saucedo

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1.
04:27
2.
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04:15
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5.
02:13

about

Year-of-EPs #5: Fun Fact: I received a melodica and a Rubik's cube for the holidays.

credits

released January 31, 2011

Recorded, Engineered and Produced by Evan Owen. Assistant Produced by Ian Shaw and Rebecca Morris.

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license

all rights reserved
Track Name: Cubes
They say that men think about sex twice as often as they think
I think that there is too much stress placed on the secret meanings of things

They say that if you chew your ice it means you’re loneliest at night
So you bite through frozen feelings
But I just think it’s very nice to tear right through
Their crystalline structures
So don’t tell me
Don’t tell me why

Why I do, do what I do
I don’t know, I don’t know
Don’t know why I chew the cubes
It’s just what I do
It’s just what I
Just what I do

Some people say that parlor tricks are unfit for company
Instead they see displays of wit as worthy of complaining

They say it took Rubik four weeks to unscramble every piece
His 54 faces grace us with God’s number
I just know that it feels so right to slide each slice into its
Fourth-dimensional chamber
So don’t tell me
Don’t tell me why

Why I do, do what I do
I don’t know, I don’t know
Don’t know why I solve the cube
It’s just what I do
It’s just what I
Just what I do

They say that Van Gogh lost his ear so he couldn’t hear his demons
What part of yourself would you cut off if you couldn’t wake from dreaming?

There are still some who draw a line and say that art belongs in times
And moving backwards is an illegal motion
But I think there’s an ebb and tidal flow, there’s miles to go ‘cause
Style’s a pretty big ocean
So don’t tell me
Don’t tell me why

Why I do, do what I do
I don’t know, I don’t know
Don’t know why I sculpt the cubes
It’s just what I do
It’s just what I
Just what I do
So tell me
Please tell me why

Why must art be origami’d into a box and held under a lock and key?
Why can’t it be free? How can a thing just be a thing
And still be nothing?
This is not a pipe, this is not, this is not a fist fight, why can’t I be free?
I want to be free, ‘cause if I were free
No, no, no, no, no, nobody, nobody, nobody would ever, ever, ever have to pay for me
Why can’t I be free? Why can’t I be? Why can’t I be? Why can’t I be
A cube
Track Name: Phobia-Phobia
I’m not afraid of grey hairs, I’m afraid of grey memories
She’s not afraid of the air, she’s afraid of the way that we breathe
I’m not afraid of the stairs, I’m afraid of the wit that won’t find me there
You’re not afraid of the stress, you’re afraid of the dress that you’ll never wear

I know, I know
What keeps you up at night
You should, you should know
It keeps me up sometimes too
But what can we do?
What can we do?

I’m not afraid of regret, I’m afraid I’ll forget what got me here
She’s not afraid of your debts, She’s afraid of what’s left when you’re in the clear
I’m not afraid of safe bets, I’m afraid I might get cards I’ll have to play
You’re not afraid of the end, you’re afraid of your friends and what you need to say

I know, I know
What keeps you up at night
You should, you should know
It keeps me up sometimes too
But what can we do?
What can we do?

We could run and jump off the cliff
Cause if there’s a barrel waiting
It could fire us up to the end flag
So we could return to the level map
So I could find a new path
To take me back home to you
But what can we do?
What can we do?
Track Name: Pretty Jars
Slim pickings this harvest,
so I listen for a messenger from the West
To tell me that somebody has got something for me to peruse

Slim picking this harvest,
so I wait for something more honest
When you tell me you want to see me, I don’t think there’s a way I can lose

Pretty Jars reflect my stars
better than the windshields of flying cars
Pretty Jars shine like stars
brighter than the headlights of flying cars

So I won’t farm these dusty fields no more
and I might even turn down a few free bushels just left on my door
but I promise that I won’t starve while I wait for preserves in pretty jars

So I won’t farm, I’ll do my best to keep my hands out the dirt
and I’ll occupy myself with a new definition of work
And even if I never eat the food within, I will turn down dirt to look at pretty jars

Pretty Jars reflect my stars
better than the windshields of flying cars
Pretty Jars shine like stars
brighter than the headlights of flying cars
Track Name: Everyday is Birthday Day
It’s time to celebrate
’cause every day is birthday day

Grab a cake and candles, hand out party hats
It’s time to party like we’re party cats
Scritch scratch, take a nap
I’ll a save you a place right on my lap

Let’s kick back, go ape, escape a heart attack
By jumping on a rhino’s back
Take that, think fast
The hardest level is the past

It’s time to celebrate (Come join me on a date)
’cause every day is birthday day

Find a path through trees, a breeze through marshy grass
So much art you’ll have an art attack
Scritch scratch, autograph
You must sign your joke to make it last

A museum amuses them with surly staff
Critics cooing over crappy craft
Your laugh might crack
The secret lines behind the plaque

I can see how small you are, hiding behind that candle
If we set your art on fire, it would surely cause a scandal
But that doesn’t mean we should stop
We will burn this gallery to cinder and rock
And let’s not forget that today

Is time to celebrate
Every day is birthday day!
So great, so great, let’s have a parade
‘cause everyday is birthday day!
Track Name: Solutions
I considered writing down all my fears on a single blank sheet
But I don’t know where to buy big rolls of butcher paper
I considered telling you that I suffer from
Agoraphobia-phobia
That I’m afraid that one day
I’ll be too afraid to leave my house
That my couch will be my cloister
And my habits my attire
And the ants in their cells my monks

I considered setting all my fears to music
But I don’t know how to transcribe whispers
I don’t know how to notate nonsense
What’s the symbol for a nervous hiccup?
A broken grace-note, a shattered tie
A dissonant chord chopping through all the good melodies

I decided to leave poor enough alone
Because my fears are really shadowpuppets
And if I want, I can move the flashlight away from my hands
Except when I’m not holding the flashlight
Or When I’m not running my hands
Or When I’m not in charge of eyeball mechanics

But I’m not strapped to a dogchair in an alligatorcave
And so rabbitfist shadows aren’t my only context
And I’ve seen real rabbits, and I’ve walked a dog
And it’s ok to be afraid of alligators
And crackhead muggers
And ten car pile-ups
And black mold
And death

It’s ok to be afraid that your fears can grow stronger
Because that just proves they can grow weaker too