Vocal collaboration with Of Apparitions. 
Music by Shane and Kyle Holt
Lyrics/vocals by Justin Senne

Can’t Help Myself

Alan Watts: "Time is a very difficult thing to pin down.There's a famous saying of Saint Augustine of Hippo, that when he was asked, 'What is time?' he said, 'I know what it is, but when you ask me, I don't.'"
Little hand, Infinity,
you've made your rounds, now wait for me
'cause I, for one, prefer reprieve
to swallowed up in somber beats
and if only I could find the time
to get these words arranged
then maybe I'd regard the sun
in a different kind of way
but it's always, "someday"
never "today"
there's so much nothing around me
it pushes every something away
friction wished to slow your haste,
warm your hands, and infiltrate
your point of view, so I could take
a moment to improve my state
and if only I could find the time
to get these words arranged
then maybe I'd regard the sun
in a different kind of way
but it's always, "someday"
never "today"
there's so much nothing around me
it pushes every something away
motion sick from back and forth,
up and down, with no real course
relative to what extent?
you exist to make me bend
and if only I could find the time
to get these words arranged
then maybe I'd regard the sun
in a different kind of way
but it's always, "someday"
never "today"
there's so much nothing around me
it pushes every something away

Alan Watts: "Time is money, we say. I don't have enough time. Time flies. Time drags.We think of time as a one-way motion - from the past, through the present, and on into the future."

Sound files of Alan Watts courtesy of Mark Watts and www.alanwatts.com
Written by Justin A. Senne

Drums: Matt Hoffman
All other instrumentation: Justin A. Senne

Justin Senne - Ultraviolet

Lyrics: Steven Wagler
Guitar/Vocals: Justin Senne
Bass: Brad Graber
Drums: Zach Emmons

These one thousand things I wanna tell ya won't change a god damned thing,
in lieu of a better fella you're too far away to see:
all my good deeds; the amenities now.
I caught a paper airplane and thought about 
the worst you'd found in me.

A posthumous emptiness still creeps in this nostalgic, neurotic fiend.
Do you still mention me?

Autumn brought your words in weekly letters, to thicken the mystery.
And winter brought your voice. We'd talk forever.  Those kids made so much noise.

A transient, reverberated tryst echoes with all that still exists.
You promised me this.

At a campfire, on a tight-wire, our burning boy bathed in the river.
On a hillside, on a cold night, his honest voice sent shivers
from a storybook of a boy who looked so much like me that it mattered.
These months, I've felt all right, but here we are now in the after.

A posthumous emptiness still creeps in this nostalgic, neurotic fiend.
A transient, reverberated tryst.
You promised me this.

Justin Senne - Blue and White

Written and performed by Justin A. Senne.

I've got a self-conflict of interest.
But it dissolves inside every shot,
until there's nothing tangible in it;
just lingered, lamenting, lonely thoughts.
I whisper words onto paper
until the click of another point snapped
directs my attention to timelines, 
and obligations that I have let lapse.

So I swap the graphite for nicotine, step inside shoes that are too big to fill, 
and let the stress pass right overhead so I can watch it go in for the kill.
Are you listening? Can you hear me? 

Our superstitions coalesced into the shape of me and the curve in you.
But I've heard that specters never learn to swim.
So, tonight, lets drown this ghost town in Jack and Jim.

I guess there's no fooling you. My cloudy eyes tell on me
for another trip to a state where I can escape myself:
a knowledge pool of no use; stagnant, evaporating;
self-esteem failing from self-loathing, self-abnegating.
But you cannot understand if you don't know how it feels
constantly wringing your hands and questioning what is real;
with a sickness growing inside, spawned by a cut that won't mend,
infecting body through mind.  But then again...

Our superstitions coalesced into the shape of me and the curve in you.
But I've heard that specters never learn to swim.
So, tonight, lets drown this ghost town in Jack and Jim.

Now I can see my future on the face of every man 
burdened by too many years of reaching past his own arm-span.  
And I can feel my inner child growing older every day.  
I hear him scream each night, begging for a change.

Our superstitions coalesced into the shape of me and the curve in you.
But I've heard that specters never learn to swim.
So, tonight, lets drown this ghost town in Jack and Jim.

Justin Senne - Roanoke

Lyrics and music by Justin A. Senne

I must confess that I have been 
killing time 'til you've got time to spend.
I've wrung my hands and watched it pass away.
And I've realized, like a phantom limb, 
I haunt the thoughts you left me in
and wait for some revelation to take place.

And, just like the ocean, you change by the moon;
but it's not the kind of motion a person gets used to.

And so it always goes like this: 
close a bad night with a "goodnight" kiss,
but we both know that's automatic now.
And we always say, "Hope your dreams are sweet," 
but I can't quite recall what all that meant to me;
or why we waste our breath saying it out loud.

And, just like the ocean, you change by the moon;
but it's not the kind of motion a person gets used to.

Grievances not filed tend to clutter the creases in your head.
Then, your eyes betray your thoughts.
In the feelings love once fed, contempt is creeping up instead,
until that's all you've got in common.

And, just like the ocean, you change by the moon;
but it's not the kind of motion a person gets used to.

Justin Senne - Sea Legs (acoustic demo)

Justin is an independent musician/songwriter, currently residing in Bloomington, Indiana.

Justin Senne

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