Ryan David Orr

For My Mother, Who Truly Loved The World

Released 02/20/2015
Released 02/20/2015
  • Lyrics Clay

    She made him out of clay

    Strong hands shaping bone

    Until he stood up on his own.

    Until the darkness she'd known

    Was held firmly at bay.

    Until he walked outside

    With his youthful binds untied

    Where the saint and the sinner reside

    In the mad arms of the day.

    There's a bigger plan, they always say.

    Yet he struggles just to keep in mind

    The beauty in the truth we find.

    Are we callously left behind?

    Or knaves all in a play?

    She shimmers now in moonbeams;

    He waits for her voice in dreams.

    A sound so elusive, it seems,

    To resign him to the clay...

  • Lyrics Like We Love

    I can always tell when she's calling,

    You seem to be straining to see things clearly.

    But tapping the edge of your glasses passes as half-assed and passive and merely hoping that no one notices.

    Unraveling your fabric, the necessary patches.

    I believe two things here; the first of which is that you're collapsing.

    Number two is what you already knew, that I feel the same way you do.

    No, I don't think you're weak. They're necessary patches; two people in one jacket.

    We just wanted to be loved like we love. Don't turn away if it's not just what you dreamed of, 'cause we wanted to be loved like we love.

    When Saturday came those Santa Lucia girls had all the bay clothes folded.

    Waiting in line to go home for a time if they would do just what we told 'em.

    I can't tell you the future, but I'm sure their mothers had better plans for them.

    But they sell off their bodies 'cause they can't remember what hasn't been shown them: that even the streets can't own them, and they are the light of the world.

    And every breath is an answer to the question of whether or not we can believe we deserve this life.

    We just wanted to be loved like we love. Don't turn away if it's not just what you dreamed of, 'cause we wanted to be loved like we love.

    And after all, does is seem like we were trying to be something more than this?

    To give away your love without worrying it's more than you can give.

    Why is it frightening to feel like the words just won't come out right

    As, one by one, they disappear until we can't recall why we fight?

    We just wanted to be loved like we love. Don't turn away if it's not just what you dreamed of, 'cause we wanted to be loved like we love.

  • Lyrics Keep Your Eyes On Me

    Nothing's sacred to you anymore.

    in the sounds along the shore, all you hear is war.

    Nothing shimmers in the sun you see.

    In the changing of the leaves, all you see is green.

    It's not enough to keep your love boarded up.

    Quit fighting me. Just keep your eyes on me.

    Don't look away angry. Just keep your eyes on me.

    What if you are the only one to blame

    For all your fear and shame? Would you still feel the same?

    In the mirror stands a clearer view,

    A vision of your truth. But you just stare right through.

    It's not enough to keep your love boarded up.

    Quit fighting me. Just keep your eyes on me.

    Don't look away angry. Just keep your eyes on me.

  • Lyrics Lines

    And the lines upon the faces are drawn crooked and curved,

    hammered out of marble.

    In forests of emerald a soft blessing is heard

    In some forgotten fable.

    With her voice echoing on this drive

    And all your pirate days rest in their eyes.

    We'll hold our tongues.

    I heard there's shallow grave where the children now play

    Like children there before them.

    And called from the dust and bones and the layers of clay,

    Our memories restore them.

    In her ancient robes and riding on white wind,

    She'll join the peaceful hands as all wars end.

    We'll hold our tongues.

    So tear out all of the pages; hang the pictures on your wall.

    Let the whole world know just what you're made of.

    'Cause the lines upon the pages fill books with meaningless words

    And stories of places we never remember.

    It's like they were never there at all.