This song is named after the street that housed a recording studio that I worked at when I was in my most formative of years. I can remember the day that it was my job to help shut the studio/label down and throwing thousands of CDs into the back of a junker truck that was going to disgard them to a landfill. It was the first time that I saw or knew of this reality in music.
— Uncommon Nasa

Survived the downpour,

Hidden away but not hiding

Deciding sounds or rhythms

Today's not thriving

Moving day, your CD's trash

Placed where trucks dump

Losing pay, fits in Dime Bags

Take some hard lumps

I wrote this song the way I was originally taught to write poetry (more or less). I was taught at a young age to count out syllables, and thus that was the key to writing poetry that didn’t rhyme. If you read along here you’ll see that for the most part I kept a pattern of 4 and 7 syllable sentences to form the verse. I’m hoping to do more experimenting along these lines in the future but this was the first time I did this on a song.
— Uncommon Nasa

This New York air can be lonely on last nights

It seems unfair

School sold me on the fair fight

Maybe it wasn't the school

Dream eraser, crazy but wasn't a fool

Team replacers

Find the address

While step into my office sounds like madness

And I'm one of the lost kids

Look back on generations

Things sure have changed

Didn't know what we were facing

And few were saved

The great escape

You almost lost me for good

Control my fate

Life chosen, no longer ruled

Now you must find a new path

Told to move on

How few rushed minds do move passed

Fold or push songs with no value

This is part of the future

I tried to tell you

Printed albums that suit you

Oh, the conversations had

Speculation

Brave New World relations end

Realization

Goals that's cut short

Done while in a session

Roam or be forced

Taught and early life lesson

Between equalization

Gone forever

Act in secret compression

Toward the end of the verse I start to get into the breakdown of the music business. People loved making straw men out of the industry, but indie labels folded too and took with them lots of creative based jobs and careers, including mine. It’s only by good fortune and will power that I kept at this. This song acknowledges those that didn’t stick with it, whether as musicians or folks behind the scenes.
— Uncommon Nasa

Knowledge severed

A life lost in depression

Freedom prison

Inconsiderate endings

Mass defending

Firing squad intentions

End of eras

The new age is silicon

Stay in college

Accept what's offered

Don't dare dream

There is no scene

Not the way it used to be

I had a love

But it will never be enough

-Coda-

You can't get blood from a stone

And you can't go home when they pave over it with stone

No longer a home, reduced to rubble from stone

Only we can build back into a home

Stone by stone, brick by brick, home sweet home


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