by Empire Builder

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released December 31, 2010




Empire Builder Barton, Wisconsin

Straight up Barton punx! Fuck West Bend! Listen/download our music and tell us what you think. We are livnig in Minneapolis and really wanna play shows, so hit us up! Party on!

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Track Name: Route 6
another long day. blurry eyes staring down a clogged drain. a far cry from caring. crammed in a dish pit, ambition exits. rinse and repeat, sifting defeat. whats left for me now after 40 hours? respect sent out with the rent chick. another boring day. nerves caffeinated. nothing more to say under stimulated. asleep in a spare room, integrity no where to be found today, just another day.
Track Name: No Return Address
mistakes, headaches and this motor hum all through the night. an uncomfortable sprawl, fall fast asleep across the last two seats. a worn in heart burned and bleached on my sleeve. i was spent like found change on copy machines, thrown out with these grounds to much coffee in me. indiana nights, tears stream from the playback. kept you near my side with springsteen and a tape deck. future blacked out like a storm. furniture stacked to block closed doors. can't stray from the thought yet, one day you may knock again i was receding like the cincinatti sky line. burned out bright in cigar smoke in the early morning sunrise. i was sidetracked, sat up awake from the strain. hands clasped to ears from the crash of falling four glass grains. things sounded better when i found you like that feather. now im weathered, a wast beside these wayside treasures. im still awaiting a letter but this place just seems to sever and attack. retract, reach back, and put the pieces back together.
Track Name: This Carpet Doesn't Create Lightning!?
im cracked and weathered, im a stack of letters all returned to sender. all ive learned is better left to rot in a garbage heap. all ive got is hardly anything worth mentioning im my own worst enemy. this vacant heart, these replacement parts. the missing pieces. the transmission ceases. cables down, signals lost and severed. all hail doubt, withdrawn thoughts are never worth mentioning. im my own worst enemy. just a ball of stress trying to fit square pegs. marvel at the mess when it all caves in. my trust is spent, i just dont give a shit anymore.
Track Name: Tell 'em Tim Scott Sent Ya
indignant at the pigment below my feet. beyond this fence before me there must lie a brighter tint, so this bus drives all night again. a radio blasts, scream out of tune. wave to your past shrinking in rear view. as these three friends leave again they leave a sense of direction behind, never guess what we'll find. in transit demand is simple. never care whether we're there just sit and stare out this window. we've seen better times between these yellow lines, so i bellow lines from that mix we had every time my life feels fixed and planned. pacified, passing time till flashing lights and highway signs steer our lives to a road an atlas and a broken compass, broke and jobless
Track Name: "Praise The Lord And Pass The Jennifer."
under an overpass, over last fall. id fall hard to get back from a passerby to our last goodbye. i left sentiment in wet cement to dry. from a city bus ive been missing what could have been, wondering what would happen if we set sail and let failure do its worse. pack up the back up burners ive been leaning hard on the time we've got left. meaning to start untying knots. these tangles and frays could say all we need to say. mouths dont speak about what beats under your chest. miles of scenic towns and streets getting the best of me, and without you around this window seat is winning ever round. ive been leaning hard.
Track Name: justputRUSHonandwaittillthedrugskickin
the sun beating against my back, all feeling sapped fell out of place id sell these days for a clean october page. out of step. out of season. out of breathe. out of reason. overweight circumstance a mocked attempt at balance. straying from sight id trade in these nights to find a way to rewind. out of place. out of town. out of ways to pin it down. the sand and hiss of waves now haunts san francisco greyhound. the midwest left me a mess. the damage dealt and done, sort it out northbound 101. nothing to gain. nothing to lose. coming of age. coming unglued.