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by Sons Of Nothing

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Snapshot 03:08
don't ask me why I think it's gonna be all right too many years I've wasted hiding from the light but I've got a snapshot and it shows me what I missed this is who we really are and this is how it is caught in the flash of some divine epiphany one luminescent view of how this life could be completely unexpected dose of clarity floating in the moment glory in the moment keep me in the moment times like these are remedies but they never last no matter how I try to bring them back freeze the answers in my mind somehow they always slip and melt away in the light of day dont' ask me why I think it's gonna be all right I can't explain or justify this second sight but I've got a snapshot now to send me on my way I won't be ashamed to put this optimism on display floating in the moment glory in the moment snapshot of the moment
how come nothing I touch ever turns to gold and everything works better in my mind I see them living their lives on the other side of the road but when it comes to living mine I turn up blind should have been so much further by now thought it would be so much easier but somehow the road I've taken hasn't led to where I wanted to go when I close my eyes it flashes by all the circumstance and fame it belongs to the mind of a little child who tried to look to the future to see his name he saw it up in lights saw it in the pages of magazines saw it on the lips of adoring fans saw it emblazoned across the screen the vision seems to fade in the haze of a smoky motel room always wanted to make my mark on the future but the future seemed to arrive too soon I try and contemplate how the childhood notion can be revived the claim to fame that was uprooted by the instinct to survive should have been so much further by now thought it would be so much easier but somehow the road I've taken hasn't led to where I wanted to go how come nothing I touch ever turns to gold when everything was coming up roses years ago I've become an extra in a story no one ever told a springtime legacy that was buried in the snow
maybe if you thought about the people that you leave in your wake there would be a way to realize what you've stolen maybe if you considered giving more than you take there would be a way to learn from your misfortunes do you think no matter what it would have been this way the inevitable story attached to your name no, no, no, no, no it could have been so different but you'll never know you have nowhere else to go maybe if you weren't too frightened to admit to your mistakes no one else would have to do your thinking for you maybe if you took back the promise that you intend to break no one else would have to battle their way through did you really think it wouldn't turn out this way knowing every step you've taken and every word you say now you know there's always something left to lose did you think if you disappeared you wouldn't have to choose now you'll never know oh you'll never know it could have been so different but you'll never know sold out by feelings you were too afraid to show wandering in circles and you'll never find a home there's nowhere to go
Clarity 06:26
it's four o'clock in the morning I really couldn't tell you what I'm watching on TV could be an ad for a set of ginsu knives could be a static multi-colored screen a cornucopia of disturbing concepts fills my brain while I'm reclined I would gladly welcome the respite of an uncluttered mind in a couple of hours I'll be on my way to fight my way through another carbon-copy day I'll go through the motions 'till I'm motionless or until I don't have to stay round and round and round we go where we stop nobody seems to know do you ever feel this way or am I the only one to waste away the day if you could only see inside my mind you'd say that it was just about to stray if I could only concentrate if I could only escape this catatonic state it seems I'm looking at things through a clouded glass and I can't keep anything straight I hope there comes a day when I will feel no disarray and I'll be able to see the layers peel away to reveal some kind of clarity Oooh, Clarity feeling used up feeling washed up feeling bottled up feeling tightened up gotta lighten up because I'm frightened out of my mind I'm wandering the world half-blind stepping across the street
Mr. Serious 06:36
a cold dim flourescent morning in the 21st century an eyeblink in the slow demise of shared reality mr serious plants his flag and lets the trickle-down karma fly and all the way to the roof of the world you hear his mighty cry the truth is a virus every day is april fool's every night is halloween dancing on the fault lines heavy water runs through his veins always been of two minds always felt a little strange joyous and pathetic and he won't let go he's breaking out in hives he don't need the chemicals no more he's tripping on the truth of the times the truth is a virus every day is april fool's every night is halloween for mr serious a cold dim flourescent evening in the 21st century the heartbeat between how it is and how it used to be mr serious paints his flowers and waits for the moon to rise karaoke calls him out gonna spill his guts tonight the truth is a virus
objects in space ripples and waves the fact of them speaks to me so far so deep look underneath a sea of tranquility don't be so quick to curse the darkness and the cold the early silence is a home sweet home all alone is all we've known solitary world no one's pride is justified solitary solitary world alien skies splinter the eyes louder the freedom rings lost in the blue from this point of view we can see everything if there's no grand design and nothing we do matters then the only thing that matters is what we do all alone is all we've known solitary world no one's tried to get inside solitary solitary world
Juneau 01:58
W04 03:58
cry if you want to cellophane and see-through faith somehow has lost you no wonder why it pales you now as my contempt grows minds too thin and narrow follow where the wind blows free to let your fear flow thumb your nose at reason twisting your perception blind to all compassion silence your redemption ignorance an excuse only for the obtuse as you search for one more enemy this world's a sad fucking place understanding so unreal value knowledge as a sideshow a circus freak's appeal as my mind starves for a form of intellectual fray just forget your need to scream and do everything they say once I believed 'twas important to be seen and heard now I could not care just refuse to feel we'll do no better taking pen to paper drinking poison liquor and shooting up for there is nothing that I own not my body nor my soul given away long ago for some trinkets mud and stone will the bullshit ever end can we even just pretend that we care about the future and tip the scales again oh I'm so fucking sick of you so so fucking sick of you
Saving Grace 06:32
got a feeling a stain that keeps on growing despite the pain of knowing the future cannot change the past doesn't matter we let our dreams deceive us our memories won't leave us even the best ones hurt so bad we're running away running yesterday's race running away looking for a saving grace in the morning we try to fix what's broken disown the words we've spoken pretend we see through clearer eyes doesn't matter we're addicted to the misery the definition of insanity we never seem to realize we're running away running yesterday's race keep running away we end up in the same old place waiting on a saving grace
every time this happens like some recurring dream I never see it coming and it's so hard to believe that I'm on the island again visiting mussolini he doesn't seem the villain that he's made out to be always has a sympathetic ear I tell my tale of woe and he offers his advice and everything seems perfectly clear he says "here we are in our exile and we can't recall our crime better just forget her, son she'll do it every time she did the same thing to me" that's what I find disturbing about this situation it ought to be a punishment but it feels more like a vacation and that seems to suit me visiting mussolini I think about my choices and I think about my blood try to read the story in the patterns clearly I deserve this and I need to find out why but mussolini laughs at me for thinking that it matters "here we are in our exile and we can't recall our crime better just forget her, son she'll do it every time she did the same thing to me" mussolini disagrees about prophecy and destiny he calls it pointless fantasy just swimming in my head at his time in history he didn't have my luxuries no desert island discs no all-time Top Five no navel-gazing trepverter it was enough to be alive to be alive then the moment passes and my clarity is gone the sun is high the sea is warm but the comfort's much too cold can't get past the shifty source of what I'm being told it makes no sense to me visiting mussolini and all that I can think about is how I must get back but somewhere deep inside I know it's never gonna last 'cause every time this happens every time that I'm set free I end up visiting mussolini I never see it coming and it's so hard to believe that I'm back again this island welcomes me


"Original flights of spacey prog-pop."
-Bill Frost, Salt Lake City Weekly

"A perfect mix between melodic rock of the classic kind and progressive rock."
-Gabor Fabian, Strutter Magazine

"It's like Marillion and Guided by Voices jamming in Syd Barrett's basement after listening to the Rush catalog."
-Tommy Hash, YtseJam

"Varied and theatrical songs...dark and brooding, but with a glimmer of hope. SoN have taken their influences and modernized them to fit their own experience and personalities."
-Andrew Glassett, SLUG Magazine

Making Of Clarity blogs:


released July 4, 2006

produced and engineered by Matt Meldrum
written and arranged by Bowers / Campbell / Hollinger / Meldrum

Thom Bowers - vocals, bass, percussion, FX
Daryn Campbell - drums, percussion
John Flanders - saxophone, flute
Tim Hollinger - vocals, guitars, juno synth
Juli Holt - vocals
Matt Meldrum - vocals, guitars, mandolin, keyboards, percussion, FX

Doran "Fozz" Barton - soliloquy on "Juneau"
Rick Emerson - Pander 103 DJ




Sons Of Nothing Los Angeles, California

Singer-songwriters Thom Bowers & Matt Meldrum (along with a host of friends and collaborators) make music that bridges the gap between pop-rock punch and art-rock extravagance.

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