Pieces Of String Too Small To Use

by Endless Mike and the Beagle Club

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    "Pieces of String Too Small To Use" is the first album by Endless Mike and the Beagle Club, originally released in 2004. This digital download comes with the original CD artwork/CD insert as a PDF. It also contains an entire live show from May 24, 2004 (tracks 11-16), and two never-before-released demos from the very earliest days of the Beagle Club.
    If you don't have a credit card/paypal account/expendable cash, message us at www.facebook.com/endlessmikeandthebeagleclub and we'll work something out. If you want something, you should be able to have it.

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credits

released June 1, 2004

PIECES OF STRING TOO SMALL TO USE

Originally released in June of 2004.

Produced by Matt Davis
Recorded: August of 2003 at Joseph Messina's home /
September of 2003 at Neal Leventry's home /
October of 2003 at Jacob Koestler's apartment /
February of 2004 at Justun Wanted's apartment /
Equipment: Fostex model 40 eight track analog reel to reel /
Akai DPS 12 twelve-track recorder / Pro Tools

All songs written by Mike Miller, except
"The Other Megan" Words by Mike Miller, Megan Noel, Josh Caterer
"If I Ever Meet The Maid" was edited by Matt Miller and Laura Mpehall

Art Direction: Mike Miller, Matt Miller, Jeremy Lowther, and Mike Gibson.
Hat Painting: Laci Hess

Thanks: Jeremy Lowther, Nikki Hipp, The Miller and Davis families, Jacob McCoy,
Matt Miller, Joe Messina, Neal Leventry, Justun Wanted, Jacob Koestler,
Shayna Blackford, Laura Mehall, Heidi Niebauer, Dallas Zimmerman,
Amanda Morin, and everyone else.

Listen to:
Car vs. Pedestrian, The Chandelier Swing, Elementary Thought Process, The Last Hope

Write to Mike Miller at michaelmiller501@gmail.com

Louis Messina had nothing to do with the making of this album.

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Endless Mike and the Beagle Club Johnstown, Pennsylvania

A singer-songwriter with a loud punk band

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Track Name: Forward
There are flowers by the windowsill.
They're plastic, so they'll never wilt.
But you can tell that they're not real.
Don't ever be ashamed of the way you feel.
Track Name: Traveler's Check
So where are you now?
In a window seat?
Just don't look down.
You'll know you're over me.
These letters went nowhere.
These words you'll never read.
As you wait to go everywhere,
Why would you wait for me?

The Big Apple
Is too big to be
Able to stay close in.
How can I let you down so sweetly?
These streets still run through me
And lead to nothing new.
As I wait to go nowhere,
I'll never get there with you.

Love's virus,
Don't inspire us.
We don't need any help from you.
New places
Make spaces
For a space between
Me and the truth.
There's not room for two.

So, where are you now?
Up in the air?
I just don't look down.
I know the answer is down there.
These postcards stay where they are.
These words, I'll never speak.
As I wait to go nowhere.
I'll never get there if you are with me.

Love's mistress,
Don't kiss us.
We don't need to be reminded of
The sweetness
Between us,
When there's a space between
Me and the truth.
There's not room for two.
I'm sorry, but I just can't do this to you.

So where are you now?
Track Name: Distilled and Bottled
On your twenty-first birthday,
We drove out to see you.
The party hadn't started yet,
So me and Joe, we started it soon.
He got so drunk he started acting like a cat.
To this day I've never known anyone to get as fucked up as that.
And I've never known a party to get so fucked up so fast.
It started brilliant.
Oh, I laughed until I threw my back out.
Everything turned hideous
Right before the point of blackout.
You and I both said some things we wished we never had
And it all came out too fast to even try to take it back.
But it's cool, because now we act like we don't remember that.

Did I say, "Happy twenty-first, my first,
Happy twenty-one to my wonderful curse,
Happy legal Drinking Day and many more to come.
Let's do this next year when I turn twenty-one?
Let's do this next year when I turn twenty-one."
Track Name: Often On Again
There are those of us who'd say
We're often better off that way.
But I myself would never make
A statement of such weight
And be absolutely sure of it.
For how quick we are to forget
The people we've hurt are often so
Quick to remember it.

Remember first the first time we were out too late sitting on my stairs.
It feels like a million lighter years away from here.
Oh, I never guessed how heavy it could get.
I never practiced my apologies
The way I do these days.
But I'd like to say
I'm better off that way.

But am I better off for a lack of sleep,
Kept awake by counting sheep,
Because there had to be an end to them?
There had to be.
When I was twelve years old I was scared to death of the thought of the never-
endingness of heaven.
Anything that's never-ending could never be
Absolutely perfect for me.
So if I can't stand ends and I'm scared to begin,
What option does that leave?
Oh, that question was endless, too, it seemed.

So here's to friends I've thrown away.
Here's to enemies I've begged to stay.
And here's to tired, never-ending conversations with the ceiling of my room,
Because when it ends too soon,
I'll never get a chance to say,
"maybe we're better off that way."
Mayve we're better that way.
Track Name: You're Watching a Lifetime Movie
I made new friends,
Not as interesting as the old,
But easier
To construct and turn to gold.
Just like memories of you and me
I'll turn them over to the sky in the end
And wait without a raincoat.

Pour on poor soil.
See if anything can sprout up,
Sprout wings and leave me in the mud.
I know that yesterday already has.
I'm sure tomorrow probably will.
But tonight I'm writing out my
Only sentiment and sending it in a bottle on the waters of this flood
And hoping it will reach some bad blood.

Because I can't forget you
But I know I'll forgive you.
And for that, I can't forgive myself.
Track Name: Cara Sera Sera
I know that you're a writer,
Cara.
Cara,
Could you write me a reminder
In blood on my blood
That it's the bigger things that matter
To a narrow mind like mine?
It might seem a little sadder,
But in time
We'll live to forgive.

I saw a van along the highway,
Broke-down
And broken down.
It looked like the one that I drive
So I drove and I drove.
And I didn't even use my mirror
As I said my good-byes.
You won't hear me say this twice.
So, "goodnight."

This could be the last time or this could be like last time.
This could be the last time or this could be like last time.

Hey, Davis!
This could be the last time
That my voice is ever recorded.
If it is, man, do me a favor:
Play it loud for everyone who ignored it.
Because there was a voice inside that urn
That was that body before it was burned
And spread outside of the city.
They always told me I'd never make it out alive.
And that's fine.
Track Name: The Other Megan
We're in a restaurant talking about music.
She says, "lately, I've just been sick of it.
If a song's not about love then it's just about the government
And either way I just feel depressed about it."
I said, "have you ever heard that song by The Smoking Popes?
It's got the coolest ending ever.
There's just one guitar and singing and it goes,
'Butter on a summer day when she's around'
Then they all hit a chord and let it ring out."
She looks at me from across the table
And says, "Do me a favor."
I said, "I will if I'm able."
"Write a song for me."

Oh Megan, I wish it was that easy.
Track Name: If I Ever Meet the Maid
A parking meter with some time still on it on a Sunday afternoon
Made me wonder, "why would the driver bother to pay if he didn't have to?"
Maybe he just forgot or
Maybe she never knew it.
Maybe he lost track of the days.
Maybe she's just that used to it
(Putting money into machines. I guess by now we all should be).
One thing's for sure. though. Whoever drove that car never worked as a meter maid.
Because if he did, I think, it would be impossible to think
That she ever would have paid.
But I'll bet he does on weekdays.
I wonder if she thinks that's strange.
Why is it so hard to separate who we are from what we do?
So I sat back on the curb and used someone else's time to try to learn to.
Track Name: Page To Screen
So I straighten my views,
Get back to the news
And read until I understand it, too.
Everything printed is fact. That's the way it should be.
At least that's what they told me,
So I pick up a pen and I write out a story
Of a day deep in meaning, a life that won't bore me
And everything written is wasting the time I could spend
Trying to make amends.
So I save and I save and I save and I save
And I wait and I wait for a rainy day
When these pages become an umbrella,
When these words can just be washed away.
Then I start on a list of the way things are different
But run out of paper before I can finish it
And fit the reasons why I deserve it
On the end of a filter of a cigarette
(Which I then smoke).
Who cares if anything changes? I don't.
I just want to stay real and then stay here forever.
With a blank look on my face and a blank piece of paper,
I write myself into a smile.
Found in the fiction aisle.
It's a best seller.
People buy it every time.
Track Name: Credits and Acknowledgements
We're all in different places now.
We're all in different movements.
With all of our ears pressed to the ground
From the piano's operation.

Where we're free of all the outbursts
And we're free from caving in.
And we're working for a clock that never
Wants to work again.

All this time you never knew that someday you'd have to.

And it almost seems impossible.
And it always comes up last.
And it's always irresistible,
Talking about the past.
So let me buy you another coffee,
Let's fill another ashtray
As we speak of total strangers using
Only their first names.

All these nights we've let pile up with nothing else to do.

Don't say it's true,
Whatever you're thinking.
Don't say it's a lie.
I know you too well by now, don't I?

Don't say that you don't know.
Just let me think you do
And you can think that I do, too.
We've got it between us two.

So when the sun comes up tomorrow
And when it ends,
We'll figure it out again.