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Light Rooms / Dark Halls

by Ant Coughlin

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Julius Thomas
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Julius Thomas This album is a thought provoking, God glorifying LP. Ant's flow and West P's beats fit perfectly. To this day this album helps me to persevere on through whatever life throws at me. Not because of what I do, but because I know what Christ has done for me.
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1.
Technicolor 02:14
I close my eyes to drift back and everything’s in black and white and enmity of after life is lurking’ through my apprehensions no more than an adolescent covered in muddy stains with vision covered gray, no passion or effervescence and on my shoulders I carry a bag that sags/ all of its made of rags and it hangs because I carry boulders composed of woes and guilt that I can’t shoulder and I loaf because I lack impulse to hope and I can’t see the hills or what’s in front or back, I’m wearing’ shades, but as a mask cause in fact I squint but all I see is black I feel my way with a stick that I call my gut with friends I tell I’m free as a front, if I was blunt, I would tell em’ I felt lost without a map crossing along streets, struck by a sun’s radiant gaze that I can’t see but I feel the heat while stress tied my chest like shoe strings I medicated with sex and predicated my life on thinking, I would have to lean on me then Someone I couldn’t figure, figured He’d find me. . . His beams seemed to fray in, a dream like state when the heat from his crux and the flux of him came in
the leaves on the trees and the sky started changing
and these scales on my eyes fell to die on the pavement
I never knew it looked like this
back straight, somebody came and took my guilt — that weight the stones on my back made a path for his hill
dull turned bright, and that loaf turned to life on a flight path to slice parasites and be still
Life—going from black and white 
to shades that catapult you towards the advocate!
if you’ve ever had these glasses on and can’t imagine life 
not seeing for the first time everyday . . . 
then you know how I feel
2.
All My Life 03:20
I heard the sky begins at the ground. . .
so, i guess that’s why they live in the clouds--in my city
and there’s a line around corner at the clinic
where they get the next trip for free, but leave empty
I’ve seen plenty put their pennies in a plate
while their promised it’ll be okay--have faith
and he’s driving’ in his Audi to the burbs
tinted windows camouflage the pain--cheapskates
I see you fighting’ to get back up on the wagon
but you can’t fight pills with angst--need grace
It beats trying’ just muscle it till bloody knuckles
beat you back into that chase--keep pace
in the jungle with the savages and masquerades
I’m telling you, it’s sabotage, they done camouflaged bacteria
to make you bite mirages like a cast away
alas, restless till your heart can rest at last inside His hand saying. . . It’s like my city beats with baited breath
waiting’ for the day when pain’s alleviated from it’s weighted chest 3. i’ve seen it’s patience turn to rage only to fade into mistakes
to Monday mornings where they hate to smell of waking’ up
and how it’s air is changing’ faces cuz it’s taking’ dust
then there’s the wasted, nodding’ faded from the taste of skunk
but in the souls of the jaded, the devastated
from doing everything that they He hated--I see His face
portraits of His portrait, painted over with poor traits
satiated with poor fakes--forgeries of the LORD’S grace
why look for getaways in prisons where the floor quakes, and gravity pulls all the grins to frowns before the boards break? 13. we’re made for more than broken promises and forays
Displayed in His benevolence for enemies He tore space
Put on your pain and took your penalty--a’more He’s love epitomized and the remedy He’s Jesus.
3.
Radios on while I’m packing’ for the days ahead Way back I’m thinking’ how decades ago I made my bed Laid in it like a lazy man on his way to napping’ away the day and wasting what He foolishly neglects to spend my face--shone off the one that’s strangling’ my wrist--a race against time and space that seems limitless I been hacking’ up junk for days and I couldn’t keep pace with penitence I wonder if my King will remember this? how I’ve made disgraceful memories and seen the same type of images heavy loads like duced diapers I better pack a noose in case the truth about me gets too frightening bruised psyche. . .cuz who is like me? unredeemable, abominable— boos hype me so as I shove off, I toss my load on my shoulder and bid fair well to all my loved ones to my beautiful wife, have a beautiful life and please serve Him well, to my one son solemn faces all around I would stay but look at all the time I wasted, pain I caused not to mention how I’ve been devastated by never savoring the grace of God. These are my dark halls with talking walls telling me that there’s a cliff I should be walking off If not for Calvary, I couldn’t walk at all. If not for Calvary, I couldn’t walk at all.
4.
I can hear em’ through my floorboards now telling’ me I’M everything I’ve hated—hated let’s be real, you know you’re just faker—faking deep inside, He sees inside, that’s why He hides his face—FACE IT! if He cared, He’d be providing’ grace--CHASE HIM?! why? when all you’re gonna do is fall?—JADED WALLS, talking’ like they got a pulse while they follow me thru halls -- STALKERS like i have this ghost--AWKWARD like i’m out to lunch counting’ all the times dropped the ball searching’ for that fountain, fouled up and he found(fount) me on the floor dumping’ doubt upon nostalgia like, “you been down here before.” By now you know that’s it’s over, there’s now going back for more You done stacked up stacks of accidents and taxed Him--gone Seas of His forgetfulness have washed up on the shore And they’ve tossed you on the boards, acting like He’s keeping score acting like He’s keeping score I MEAN WHAT’S GOING ON? I FEEL I’M ONLY HOLDING ON AND THERE’S NO WAY TO CONTROL IT ALL THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO, NO THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO This is more than I know put my needle to this vinyl Hear my vitals, beat my heart at the arrival now This is what the surface says—my life is picture perfect perfect pictures don’t exist, they all get twisted in my curtains and I know the show must go on I’m writing down my sins then I wipe my tears away with the same napkins that I wrote So much pride inside of me, my time needs cosmetology that means I need to make that up for the fruits of my idolatry Yellow taxi cab, I’m trying to run away My doctor needs no patients, my band-aids are like maxi pads fail to be a father, and a husband, and a leader, I can’t front I want it all, but I just wanted to be even Though the odds are against me, they leave their two cents on floors I’m picking up every penny hoping I never come short My short comings irrelevant, I’m more than pleasantly dream(ing) Cuz after that story, the mirror looks at a fiend. I MEAN WHAT’S GOING ON? I FEEL I’M ONLY HOLDING ON AND THERE’S NO WAY TO CONTROL IT ALL THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO, NO THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO Somebody called that bluff-show his hand Whose that fiend behind the curtain--oh it’s him It’s like it’s always him playing’ with these puppet strings preaching’ we ain’t nothing but just Mumford--no Sons of His in here didn’t He die to bring us comfort? Wonderful Warrior , Truth’ll cut the tongue from those hysterics I know he’s cunning and them floor boards talk before you go and break another mirror--stop look at His wounds and at that tomb and what He proved with it where’s the prosecution? Vamoose with it. trapped inside His luminance, still wrapped inside this humanness Indeed, with cuts from this disease that still sting--brutal and we fumble but we’re still on the grind call us Logan, He put steel in the spine when we hear those walls talk we sing melodies to herald Him remembering His Story and His shield with His rod I MEAN WHAT’S GOING ON? I FEEL I’M ONLY HOLDING ON AND THERE’S NO WAY TO CONTROL IT ALL THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO, NO THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO
5.
(IT WILL BE MY HEART, THAT WILL PROTECT YOU FROM THE COLD) I hear my boy crying’ and my mind’s reeling’ to 84’--I’m soaked in pain and sucking wind I was cut out of protection to cold world with nothing to really hold but hope in assumption that you’d be around I’m surrounded by malfunction and billows of bad dreams I’m left with me to keep from drowning I backstroke through those first waves, like 1st grade those first fights and them first phases of bad days But who’ll protect from those demons in my bedroom or teach me how to go to my Creator when I go to pray? I mean I see you every now and then, but now and then you come around, sit down, pretend to promise but you never stay and now that’s what I think honesty--a bad charade I am ferocity contained but what I never say. And if the prophecies of ghettos see fruition I’ll be a progeny fighting the wind within the fray, but while in suspension and that pending it began to rain. I felt December melt away and turn to summer days, and paint the burden of my rage to absolution and blend cacophonies into melodious displays of benevolence for enmity and lift the weight of an ill dependency on anything that’d make the pain numb I breath now, seeing you beneath the Slain Son I breath now, seeing you through what His Pain’s done (IT WILL BE MY HEART, THAT WILL PROTECT YOU FROM THE COLD) I know we never really ask for this-- missing heroes and collateral damages we look for answers but he’s away on sabbatical somebody let Ms. Hannigan loose and that’s problematical Follow the leader? Who? If it’s you, then I’ll holler ATTICA! I need answers. I’m out of em’ I don’t know how to love without thinking 'bout physicality (the) sacred becomes casual apathy feigns actual rage until I fade away into a cloud of dust, in Hell’s serenades cuz I’ve been outta luck without a hand to guide my everyday self-destruct inside my citadel while I palm grenades But wait. . .through my haze I see this Man disgraced abandoned to emancipate and land the Coup de grâce to decadence and all that pain that makes for heavy weight He turns the fatherless to sons and daughters following the Father while they hollow Him and wonder at His love and grace (wonder at His love and grace)
6.
I only have ten pictures and a purple box a lock of hair, a foot print, and an hour’s worth of thoughts and memories to go off of, like, “Do you know you’re loved? Do you know I’m dad and do you know that’s mom? I remember your last breath. You left; and when they said, “He’s gone.” How we lashed at death. How we thought in poems. And we had those friends who echoed, “How long!” Sitting by the window hoping this is a nightmare. Bent over, hugging my wife the God of Micah met me right there. Gave His beloved sleep, a broken heart relief, a sunshine to show me His mercy keeps on going like music on repeat. I close my eyes knowing now you know more life than me I worship through a glass dimly—you’re at His feet You know, it’s something when a tragedy is so the Greatest Tragedy of time be shown, to kill my apathy. Life from death? How could they call this alchemy? Grace takes the taste from death and makes the mouths sing . . . You do all things well, I know this And when it all falls down, You show me In my darkest clouds, I’m found Your love and grace knows no bounds So I praise You (Hallelujah) In the Valley is where You find me now Where I run to You (Hallelujah) For Your Glory and for Your renown, yeah I remember you laying on the bed, and blaming you I said, “He’s good! His story says we’ll make it through Even though we have to go home to a vacant room Where a space for three has suddenly become a space for two It’s grace that follows us through obstacles and outta hospitals with love that’s optimal through valleys where He’ll make us new His short life was used for things that we did not assume Like knitting us together, and making Glory heavier and heavy burdens feather weight as we await the groom We’ve lost the pleasure of a sun but we have better news We have the treasure of the One Who’s irreplaceable, radiant, great than the pain that we’ve been praying through Sunflower, on the day we see His face and all our tears are wiped away we’ll sing His praises in amazement His glory will eclipse all this He’s Who we’re waiting for and His Cross is why our mouths sing . . . Hallelujah Hallelujah You find me where I am Worthy is the Lamb In everything, sing Worthy is the Lamb, yeah. On that day we celebrated gifts in expectation and in the same day (we were) praying that he’d make it It’s like adversity will find us all and it certainly will show our flaws like how we worship planning life like we’re in charge we think it works then. . . we’re caught off guard they closed the curtain, so we could be with him alone What do we say? Our vision blurry Uncertain as to what’s in store, but know He works I think I read that in a book before. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort. (2 Corinthians 1:3-7, ESV)

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released July 22, 2014

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Ant Coughlin Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

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