





Meaningless
Everything I say is meaningless
Trace your lines out with my fingertips
And that's enough

Effortless
Everything you do is effortless
Let down your hair and take off that dress
Come drown me in love

We're rebuilding those ruins inside of our hearts
We're making new roads in the middle of the dark
It's a raging fire born from a spark
Your body is burnin

Healing those wounds I've had since I was young
From glory to glory, I'm speaking in tongues
Surprised by this goodness that I find here
In the land of the living

Willingness
We give into willingness
We give until there's nothing left
We're beggars for love

Helplessness
We are helpless in our defense
Overtake the walls and battlements
Leaving ashes and dust

Ruins

Oscillating between heaven and hell
Which is worse, sugar, I cannot tell
All we are is trouble and dust

So gather timber and hand me the light
We're so cold and we don't know why
But all we long is for the warmth of other suns

I can't escape this heartbreak
Oh, come and save me
Cause even through all the fires of doubt
I still believe

So choose your side in a war with no end
Set the table for imaginary friends
And we'll laugh louder than the howling outside of our door

Ask for food but hand rocks out instead
Just so that it won't go to their heads
Cause you know they'll just be back here begging for more

Fires Of Doubt (Acoustic Demo)

"Kings and paupers will finally meet
At the foot of that mercy seat"

Baton Rouge

Holding On (One Microphone In An Empty Room)

I wrote a song in a storm. One take, one microphone, in an empty room.

The Storm (One Microphone In An Empty Room)

Minefield Heart

Bad Habits

A song about searching.

Gear:
  - Recorded on Universal Audio Apollo
  - Sm7 for vocals with light compression and reverb
  - 1955 Martin D-35 with Avantone CV12 on the body (Panned Right)
    and  Se5 Pencil Condensor on lower bout (Panned Left). Light        
    Compression and Reverb
  - Ampex ATR-102 on Master

Blinding Light (Acoustic)

Single takes, rendition of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, written in 1943 by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane. Merry Christmas!

robcafaro