Released: June 3, 2003

Battle of the Nudes

  1. Into the Night
  2. Figment
  3. Christmas Time in Toronto
  4. Willow Logic
  5. Pascal's Submarine
  6. 11th Fret
  7. Who By Rote
  8. Steeplechase
  9. More Me Less You
  10. We're hardcore
  11. Pillform, No. 2
  12. Pillform, No. 1
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Pascal's Submarine

There's not a breath of air tonight i got my windows all thrown open wide praying for any little breeze to move the curtains, shake the leaves tonight

stumbled in to sleep's ravine into a dream of Pascal's submarine where if you can remain quiet and still you might escape life's fill of misery

A woman's had all she can stand hysterically screaming, 'I'm waiting for my man' - 'Madam, we're doing all we can but can you give me your man's name again?'

Are they dead or worse, alive?

Is there something that you're trying to hide? Russian accent - Las Vegas cap says, 'can we talk about all that, inside?'

With Klebanov within her grasp there's just one more thing she's dying to ask they stuck a needle in her arm saying, don't do yourself more harm she collapsed

there's not a breath of air tonight we got our windows all thrown open wide praying on any little breeze for the skeletons, for the effigies, tonight



Song Bio

I placed the now familiar photograph of a Russian mother, Nadezhda Tylik, screaming at deputy prime minister Klebanov on my bulletin board.... the look on her face, the cool detachment of the nurse who injects her with a sedative (which turns out to be heart medication that puts the lady out), the blank expression of a man (Klebanov) whose government has placed state secrets over human life and knows there is nothing he can say.... the song wrote itself. PS.... Pascal said (I think in his Pensees) (I'm paraphrasing, fairly well), "all man's misery stems from a single cause, his inability to remain quietly in one room" â I suppose I liked the juxtaposition of that quote with the now absurd advice of the pundits that these sailors should remain still and limit their movements in order to conserve oxygen. There's not a breath of air tonight i got my windows all thrown open wide praying for any little breeze to move the curtains, shake the leaves tonight stumbled in to sleep's ravine into a dream of Pascal's submarine where if you can remain quiet and still you might escape life's fill of misery A woman's had all she can stand hysterically screaming, 'I'm waiting for my man' - 'Madam, we're doing all we can but can you give me your man's name again?' Are they dead or worse, alive? Is there something that you're trying to hide? Russian accent - Las Vegas cap says, 'can we talk about all that, inside?' With Klebanov within her grasp there's just one more thing she's dying to ask they stuck a needle in her arm saying, don't do yourself more harm she collapsed there's not a breath of air tonight we got our windows all thrown open wide praying on any little breeze for the skeletons, for the effigies, tonight

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