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The Navy Blue Submarine

by Tepper Saffren

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Download songs individually for free, or pay $3 for the whole album. I know that math doesn't add up. Contact me for any comments, questions, concerns, feedback: josephteppersaffren@gmail.com

    ("I Better Be Quiet Now" and "Only You (and You Alone)" are free gifts upon download)
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    It's a CD I made special. Just for you, bubala. Go on, try it. You'll like it.

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Navy Blue Submarine via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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1.
I'm a painter and my ceiling is my canvas. Twirling colors dance my head. Ballerinas bound blank, boring walls that chain me to my bed. In this moment of crass procrastination —as I crash into creation— a bright flash of evaluation! My thoughts dash into procreation. When I'm bored I think about what has happened in my past. Those daunting decades spent hoping my childhood wouldn't last. But the past few years I've realized I've been getting off half assed... Slow and and enjoy it. Your time is slipping fast. When I'm bored I think about the here. The this. The now. Blowing off my expectations; numbing alcohol with pals. Can't help but sit here thinking and considering, "Hey. Wow. I've been wasting my whole life, do I deserve a final bow?" We all thrive taking everything for granted. In the past. In the future. But the present's not forever. Why must we live never taking any chances? Take a leap! Move your feet! Why not rejoice this long endeavor? When I'm bored I think about what'll happen in the end. Will I live a life of love? Or will I die without a friend? Can't stop thinking about tomorrow and what's round the river bend. After all, most of existence is spent underground and dead. We all thrive taking everything for granted. In the past. In the future. But the present's not forever. Why must we live never taking any chances? Take a leap! Move your feet! Why not rejoice this long endeavor? When I'm bored I think about what'll happen after I'm gone. I'll be six feet under and yet... life keeps moving on. People will forget me. Yeah. It won't be very long. All that I'm leaving behind is my boredom and this song.
2.
Hourglass 03:56
Lightning flashes creating a silhouette of a pirouetting ballerina (intricate with every step) under skyscraper trees with their mirror leaves dancing unison in rhythm — protecting her from getting wet. But the thunderstorm won't break 'till the morning. So she tries to preoccupy by dancing through the night. It won't deflect her from the pouring of her eyes (ignited by the lightning strike). Get yourself home. And mend those salt stained clothes. Don't let them mold while you melt and moan. Accept and progress. What "should be" is never "what is" and what "should be" just makes you second guess. But the thunderstorm never lasts forever. Prance under your parachute and wait out the weather. Trust that it will always get better; it just takes some time alone with your mind. The sand slips through the hourglass's grasp — it's fine. Fine sand. Each grain ingrained with grand schemes that don't mean a thing in the history of the future. Lightning flashes in the blink of an eye. Now it's over.
3.
Homes burn down and igloos melt and cuddly kitten's kidneys fail. Pups go to pounds. Pops hit kids with belts 'till CPS sends them to jail. I don't want to sit in this septic bath — I feel like shit. But I don't want to quit, so I'll pick up trash until this dump is easier to deal with. A little kindness goes a long fucking way. It only takes a couple seconds to make someone's day. Give a smile to a stranger this morning. For all you know he may be in mourning of a tragedy ten times as tough as you've ever felt or ever roughed. His home burned down. His kitten died. But he looks alright on the outside. A little kindness goes a long fucking way. For all you know, your smile saved that stranger's life today.
4.
Wish you gave me your number. Wish I could call you today, just to hear a voice. I got a long way to go. I'm getting further away. If I didn't know the difference living alone would probably be OK. It wouldn't be lonely. I got a long way to go. I'm getting further away. A lot of hours to occupy, it was easy when I didn't know you yet. Things I'd have to forget. But I better be quiet now. I'm tired of wasting my breath carrying on getting upset. Maybe I got a problem, but that's not what I wanted to say. I'd prefer to say nothing. I got a long way to go. I'm getting further away. Had a dream as an army man with an order just to march in my place while a dead enemy screams in my face. But I better be quiet now. I'm tired of wasting my breath carrying on, not over it yet. Wish I knew what you were doing. Why you want to do it this way, so I can't go the distance. I got a long way to go. I'm getting further away.
5.
Projections 05:43
Polyps on my chords — screaming out these words I fear. No one is listening. Bar my sensories (prisoner who seeks safety — siren seduction, sans sanity) at least in the shallow shadows of the night. Oh, these beasts cast me into the light where the other soldiers waste away waiting. Frozen bones that leave me shakin'. Oh, I'm shaken. I'll take your Ferro Roscher in exchange for my blue Bottle Pop. As we consume each other's, time seems to stop upon our clocks. But as we age — and once your blue tongue fades — I will only know you by the reflection of myself in your eyes. Let the black ink sink. Cranial suicide. Warpaint (streaming down my leaning down cheekbones) drenching binder paper you'll never get to read. So just listen. Lights flickering in and out. Chalk outlines on my couch — these sunken cushions cradle doubt. I'm freezing up inside my house. And where are you to turn up the heat? I wish I learned to live independently. So I'll take your Ferro Roscher in exchange for my blue Bottle Pop. As we consume each other's, time seems to stop upon our clocks. But as we age — and once your blue tongue fades — I will only know you by the reflection of myself in your eyes. Will I ever really know you or can I only ever know me? I will never truly know you. Life's just a journey to get to know me.
6.
Grey, grainy guilt beguiles genuine connection. Duct tape mouth — a stylish verbal contraceptive. This lockjaw lifestyle is taking a while to adjust two flat-lined lips; no smiles to expose the teeth I'm grinding to dust. Please, tooth fairy come tonight. Sweep up my mistakes. Wipe my bloody mouth (foaming from the fight). I've lost. I've failed, but I'll make it right. Just give me time. I need some time. Possess the process, practice, patience, and persevere. I want a Windex® window to set my sights far away from here. Escape through a shift in perspective. I'm electing a candidate who promised me a path to clear my fears. But the nominees all lie, especially the golden guy. I've invested my trust in a stockbroker who broke his word saying I'd seize the sky. I forgot to invest in myself. I threw my lucky penny in a well. Foolish you. The only wishes come true are the dreams you put your mind's drive and hard work into. Write what you want with a verbal font. Submit it to the suggestions box. I don't wanna withhold my words anymore. From now on I'll speak my truth. I'm through with this dead bolted door.
7.
Seemingly indifferent iguana, I wanna rip your tail off. And if it doesn't grow back, maybe then I'll apologize. But what for? All I did was create an escape route for all the bloody pain you hid all these years with all these fears. Now your tear gauge is on "E" because your tail was the beaten brown box in the attic holding your fondest memories. Laissez-faire millionaire snared without prayer in your selfish affair. Emotionally impaired. Heart marred falling down the stairs. Now that you've teared and teared, repair your despair. Blare your cares a little louder through your razor sharp teeth and your strong iguana jaw.
8.
This road is getting longer and the street signs getting harder to read. Night time's pretty tricky when your head light is a 5 watt LED. I need to oil my gears because they're getting kind of sticky and I'm skippin' every third word my muddied mind is thinking. So should I pull over? Or ride this road until I fall? I'll just soar on rigid rubber 'till my tires start to mellow out. Deflate the air knocked out my lungs as my wheels hit the burrs and thicket. The whistling whine joins the chorus of crickets (making me feel sick). It's all their whispers melt me closer to the ground. So should I pull over? Or ride this road until I fall? I don't wanna use my pump to inflate my sense of ego. Although, I know seductive air is quite the quick fix for flat-lined care. Aviatrix, uplift me to where the land looks like colored boxes to be alphabetized and organized. Then drop me. I need sorting out. I need some structured, destructive sorting out. I need to be sorted out. Helmet on my head, defend this enemy's invasion persuading brainwaves to my limbic cortex. It's my right to fight of flight, though you'll never see me hide. The battlefield is where I'll head instead. I'm on my way. I'll be back when this road is paved. Peelin' tape on my handles can't handle all these handholds — too romantic for a boy and his bike. Platonic pedals trap ten, tired toes all lined in rows. Military men awaiting their command. Why should I pull over? These scratches make me so much more than I was before.
9.
Night time's so much easier with drugs. I forget about my problems. I forget about the ones I loved. My toes are left uncovered. This blanket's not enough. I miss the warmth of being smothered by someone who can snuggle up to me: the navy blue submarine. Night time's so much easier with alcohol. Who needs these inhibitions? They only make me fall victim to the "should"s and "shoulda"s. Someday, I'll rise above. Until then... maybe crawling's for me: the navy blue submarine. Night time's so much harder without you. I resort to drugs and alcohol — the only things to get me through. Search for me in a rainbow. You'll never find my hue. I haven't found it either and you'll never get a better view than me: the navy blue submarine.
10.
Buoyancy 05:38
I'm on a lifeboat (floating in the ocean). I'm on a lifeboat. No waves and no commotion. I'm gonna die out here tonight. Join my fishy friends and my coral tombstone. My teeth are numb. I'm empty on fright. Been pushed past overload. Now my heart's beating on loan. Count downy he hours. The worst part is the waiting. What's the use to cower? I see the fishing line death is baiting. I'm so tempted to take a bite. Stay in control with my final decision. Just reel me in. I won't make it a fight. My cheek incision: the stigmata of my crucifixion. This is my lifeboat — the only way that I can stay afloat from all this sinking depression sprouting from my tree of recollection. Shove it down or push it up. Who will console this drowning pub lost in the water with no one around? The only king who can't keep his crown. Watch the waves wash over. A frozen bath to relieve the tension. The last thing that I'll go for as I deposit out the end of my pension. And all my memories have been paid in to a fund (only I have access). As they dissolve with all of my sins, my heart's saving grace is my future lack of taxes. I don't know what my next step is. I feel so eradicated. 'Cause I'm a rat scrambling in and out of safe holes in this prison system where I'm not free to roam. While the rest of the rats think success means cheese, that's just a faded interpretation of the Ratmerican dream. And I wish I knew better. I wish we all knew better. This is my lifeboat — ... My red sea level is rising as this pressure starts sinking in. Red eyes — pointless curing with Visine®. Salty rain helping me sink in. And as a laugh passes through my lips, I welcome this ironic expression. My head reeling with home movie clips. My emotional suppression at the end of my oppression.
11.
I see a new face everyday (pretty and ugly), they say "Hey!" But they still aren't you. I see girls smiling' at me — even guys occasionally — but they're still not you. Mystery woman, reveal yourself. I'm a vegetable sitting on the shelf waiting to be picked by you. Just waiting here in the same spot. So hurry up before I rot! Then I won't be good enough for you. You're the one I'm waiting for — even if we haven't met before. Our fairy tale is just folklore, but I still want it to be more. I imagine stealing you away. Riding to the sun at the end of the day. We'll be together forever — I pray. If there's a will, then there's a way. People tell me I'm quite the catch, but I just have to tell them, "Next." 'Cause they just aren't you. People ask what's wrong with me, there are so many fish out in the sea. But only one is you. I'm the fisherman, you're the fish. Cast out my line and make a wish that I will reel in you. And when i get you to the shore, you're the only one I will adore, 'cause I finally caught you. I know. I should leave it to fate. But I'm impatient and hate to wait, so I'll go out to find you. I'm a bird making a "CAW!" Screaming for you till my voice is raw, but it still hasn't been heard by you. I don't want to give up but I feel like I'm out of luck. Why haven't I found you? So I'll just wait here 'till that day when you will find me in the end. Then I'll finally be with... // Only you can make this world seem right. Only you can make the darkness bright. Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do. And fill my heart with love for only you. Only you can make this change in me for it's true, you are my destiny. When you hold my hand I understand the magic that you do. You're my dream come true, my one and only you.
12.
"Good" Night 05:25
I'm lost in a haze of light as my focus fissures. These rambunctious rays roughhousing my sight. Say goodnight to the iris sisters. They sail away on the midnight stream. Rough waters make me toss and turn. I cry myself to sleep so that I can dream. But these pleasant dreams just make the morning worse. Wake up. Stare down reality. Stop striking snooze to stay asleep. REMagination works wonders wondering what direction to wander. Claim your main destination or remain the bum on the bench at the train station. News in papers heeds the warning that these newspaper blankets aren't very warming. Soak in the sun rising over mountains white with printer paper snow. Each sheet a unique responsibility but my response ability is running slow. It's too busy responding to the lack of will in me. Snowflakes come crashing down. Mistakes are piling up. Why am I still awake. I want to go back to sleep. Under memory foam I'll suffocate. This avalanche has me buried.

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released April 4, 2015

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Tepper Saffren Charleston, West Virginia

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