Once you’ve crossed the Dufferin Bridge,
You’ve gone too far, kid.
I am the ugly white man on the fourth floor of the ugly white building,
With too little time on his hands and not enough planned,
Too little planned.
I’m half drunk all the time and I eat when and what I can,
Straight out of a stranger’s hands in convenience stores at three A.M.
Where they serve beer-cold-ice but can’t serve ice-cold-beer
‘cause the liquor laws are different here.
I claim to be homegrown but I’ve only ever truly grown in the absence of my home.
Maybe that’s what home is; maybe home is absence.
Maybe that’s what home is, what all I’ve ever known is.
Maybe that’s what home is.
I claim to be homegrown but I’ve only ever felt at home in the darkened wake of the open road,
Where nothing could combat with the deep, dizzying static,
The deep, dizzying static – maybe that’s what home is.
Maybe home is absence.
I claim to be homegrown but these days I just want left alone.
‘Cause there ain’t no growth in darkness; Ain’t no home on vicious cliffs.
So feed me to this violent city where there’s nothing to displace my carbon from me,
Unto anything of beauty, or unto anyone that knew me.
‘Cause out here on Queen and Dufferin I’ve been keen on sufferin’.
credits
from we'll all go with (the will-o'-the-wisp),
released May 26, 2022
keegan trumpour - vocals, wurlitzer, harmonica, organ
aaron goldstein - drums, bass, electric guitar
matt schaap - piano
carleigh aikins - backup vocals
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