Secret Somethings: Vol. 3

by Hightide Hotel

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released January 29, 2012

Benjamin Schmidt - Drums / Vocals
Christopher Thomas - Bass / Vocals / Guitar
David Sampson - Guitar / Vocals / Bass

"Spring Cleaning"
Produced and engineered by Christopher Thomas

"Secret Somethings"
"Kicked Off Bed Island"
"Fuck All These Documents"
Produced and engineered by Christopher Thomas
Drums engineered by Matthew Klein

"J.E. III"
Produced and engineered by David Sampson
Mastered by Christopher Thomas
Recorded December '06

"I Know What The Word Dead Means"
Produced and engineered by David Sampson
Mastered by Christopher Thomas
Recorded October '09

"The Tender And The Terrible (Live)"
"Be My Lobster (Live)"
WKDU's Critical-Fest, 12/15/09
Mastered by Christopher Thomas

"Closer (Live)"
Dexter's Lab, Montclair, NJ, 03/11/11
Recorded by Gio at
Mastered by Christopher Thomas

"Wordsearch (Darien St. Version)"
Produced and engineered by David Sampson
Recorded '09



all rights reserved
Track Name: Spring Cleaning
The world is always clawing at my door
But I don't crawl to answer anymore
No, I would rather ignore it because it's comfortable here
Locked in a comfortable room, maybe a comfortable tomb
Depending on my mood.
Oh, what a year I've spent holed up in here.

So even if I kick and scream and fight, I'm begging you
Drag me kicking and screaming toward the light
In all this comfortable darkness, yeah I have so longed for the sun
I've so longed for anyone to breathe a breath of fresh air into my musty lungs
I've had enough of all the isolation.

And I'm always thinking about how I can't stop thinking

I get so downhearted when I get home
Landing back where I started, spending all my time alone.
And if "home's where the heart is" these days all I know
Is that I'm feeling heartless, and so I guess I'd better go
Track Name: Secret Somethings
As spring set in, it grew warmer finally
And you seemed to be warming up to me,
To the possibility of something potentially developing.

Soon time will call you home again
To the warmth of Floridian sands
How many frequent flier miles span
Between here and there?

We make the best use of our time,
Exchanging prints and exchanging smiles.

Along with all your luggage
And memories of your brief stay here
Pack up all my best wishes
And keep them as a souvenir

We make the best use of our time,
trading tales and exchanging smiles
Mine grew wider with time and was
Harder and harder for me to hide

Spanning from ear to ear.
Track Name: Kicked Off Bed Island
We were burning gasoline and daylight
Were burning rubber into the night
A quiet smile guarded my right side
With moonlit miles along the turnpike
I did my best to keep it quiet
But I grew so quietly excited
When I found two open arms to hide in
And open lanes for us to drive in

That's how I try to remember you
September through
One of the coldest falls of all
And huddling for warmth with you on a couch for two.

So now it's heading South to practice
To a basement bedroom full of knickknacks
To which I know every memory attached -
No, I'm fine, I'm fine, I swear,
Just a bit distracted -

But now I recall instead
May's bitter end
And with its heat it brought defeat
Sewn in the creases of your hands.

I swear I can still recall
The photos and all the posters on those walls.

Though I still have heartstrings to be tugged on
I sleep with empty arms
Track Name: Fuck All These Documents
I'm always peaking on the porch
Wondering where I am, where all the dirt in the city went
I'm lost under a thin layer of water on my brain
You're lost
You'll never find me.

We were sitting by the lake in FDR at dusk
My head collapsed so goddamn fast
I'm lost, but I'm where I want to be
You're lost
And you'll never find me.

I smoke too much, I'm high right now
I trip too much, I'm falling down

So now it's spending every hard-earned cent
That isn't set aside for rent on plastic bags and loose cigarettes
And watching wasted time collect
In growing piles in ashtrays on my desk.
Track Name: I Know What The Word Dead Means
I was looking for love inside an empty vessel
I nearly worked myself to death
I used to build whole worlds around your validation
Never wondering if I actually should

I traced my weathered roots to our haunted hometown
My clean hands overturning trash
I was thinking of you and what you might've been up to
Felt confident assuming that it was no good.

I was searching for remnants, for relics of my former life
Half-hearted hooks and heartfelt mistakes were all that I could find.