My Glass Eye

Written By Rachel Moody

“On My Glass Eye, Beth Thornley blends pop, alternative rock, and punk that really isn’t comparable to many other female solo artists out there. Alternative artists like Fiona Apple or Liz Phair are probably a little too alternative when paired with Thornley yet an artist like Anna Nalick is probably too mainstream and poppy. But, whatever the mix is, it works. Thornley knows how to write a pop song. Songs like “Beautiful Lie” and “Bound” recall Garbage while the title track recalls The Fray and shows off Thornley’s lyrical prowess, “Lately I’ve been apples to an oranges world / All that polish never brought much in return / so I’ve been flying kites through hurricanes to feel OK.” Look out for the excellent covers of Joe Jackson’s “Got the Time” and a mellow, Aimee Mann-esque version of The Beatles’ “Eleanor Rigby.”
— American Songwriter, July/August 2006 (Evan James) 

To download from iTunes, click here.

  • Stand
    Words and Music by Beth Thornley

    You can't blame it on me; my sweet venus flytrap;
    It's so plain to see; it came all nice and gift wrapped.
    And you know the answer is something tha tmight do you in.
    'Cause the question flashing is 'What you got if you don't win?'.
    Everything here is free;
    still you take our half a chances.
    Everything comes in three
    so you make sure whose the last laugh is.
    And you think by now that you'd know first hand
    if you won't sit down you'll have nothing where you stand.
    If you won't sit down you'll have nothing where you stand.

    You make quiet a flare; my bright bottle rocket.
    But from up there not even you can stop it.
    If you could what would you do? All that time and nothing to prove.
    'Cause now with that shorter fuse everyone has left the room.

    Everything here is free;
    still you take our half a chances.
    Everything comes in three
    so you make sure whose the last laugh is.
    And you think by now that you'd know first hand
    if you won't sit down you'll have nothing where you stand.
    No you won't sit down 'cause you always have to

    Stand your ground. No need to move.
    Those inches mean way more than we do.
    Way more than we do.
    Way more than we do.

    And I've been wanting to look; my blazing ray of sunshine.
    But there's not a cure if I stare until I go blind.
    And I've tried to find some shade and close my eyes up tight.
    But the burn comes anyway; and there's no relief in site.

    Everything here is free;
    still you take our half a chances.
    Everything comes in three
    so you make sure whose the last laugh is.
    And you think by now that you'd know first hand
    if you won't sit down you'll have nothing where you stand.
    If you won't turn down then you're kicked out of the band.
    If you won't sit down then you'll never understand.

  • Words and Music by Beth Thornley

    Tell me, was it Thursday at 2?
    Tell me, was that when you knew? I did too 'cause
    there's no subtle grace in face plants and sadly
    you've been busy dropping hints and I've been tripping over them.

    I'd like to say I didn't notice.
    Yeah, it's be nice if it'd gone just like I wrote it.
    Maybe now I'd do it different but back then
    I had to try. I ran right off the edge, I thought that I could fly.

    And it has been a beautiful lie; a beautiful lie.
    It took me in. It kept me warm; it kept me dry.
    Now I know why. 'Cause in betwen the moth and the light
    it's so beautiful.

    I'm leaving you this tiara.
    It's a fake; besides it's too hard to wear them.
    But the way they shine is so fine.
    Do you mind if I keep a piece of it? I'd rather not get over this.

    And it has been a beautiful lie; a beautiful lie.
    It took me in. It kept me warm; it kept me dry.
    Now I know why. 'Cause in between the moth and the light
    it's so beautiful.

    Maybe it's high time that I should have known.
    But if you don't mind I'll skip the blow by blow.
    And thought it's been good as distractions go
    I just might think twice if you'd throw me a rope.

    'Cause it has been a beautiful lie, a beautiful lie.
    It took me in. It kept me warm; it kept me dry.|
    Now I know why. 'Cause in between the moth and light
    it's so beautiful.

  • Mr. Lovely
    Words and Music by Beth Thornley

    Oh Mr. Lovely,
    I see it's you again.
    On Mr. Lovely,
    You've worn a groove my friend.

    Well you said you'd say goodbuy.
    You should try and prove you right.
    Was I wrong? Tell me how long is long enough.
    I think I'm raw. Are you done if I applaud?
    I thought that you'd be long gone.
    Oh, Mr. Lovely.

    Maybe you've been there.
    Maybe you know.
    He isn't pretty.
    Looks like a hole.

    And he never said a word.
    His composure was absurd.
    Was it just so I'd feel worse? Well, it worked.
    He reruns each episode in high def and slo-mo.
    I'm just about to choke on this show.

    The more I know the more it hurts;
    the more I hate my handiwork.

    Oh Mr. Lovely,
    I see it's you again.
    Oh Mr. Lovely,
    You've worn a groove my friend.

    Well your act is overplayed.
    All the characters are slayed.
    And the audience is worn and frayed.
    There's nothing left to raid. It's the last call of the day.
    The lights are on.
    I think I'm OK.

  • You're Right Where
    Words and Music by Beth Thornley

    You don't know where you've been
    or where you're going to.
    You don't know what's 'round the bend;
    you're just taking in the view.

    So you could agree you've been unmindfully
    moving so aimlessly towards an end you can't see
    that now you're right where you don't want to be.

    You know you will blow through the finish line;
    it's what you do.
    'Cause in the end the terrapin
    he don't have what you do.

    Now comes the trick question you'd rather forget.
    If you got what you want are there any regrets?
    'Cause now you're right where you don't want to be.
    'Cause now you're right where you don't want to be.

    So you could agree you've been unmindfully
    moving so aimlessly towards an end you can't see
    that now you're right where you don't want to be.
    'Cause now you're right where you don't want to be.

  • Once
    Words and Music by Beth Thornley

    Could it be that I believed
    I could keep this ringside seat
    and then cheat this ill-conceived make-believe
    with a creep?
    Did I hear you choke on your overflow?
    There's the door turn off the lights as you go.
    Did I hear you beg? It's a double edge.
    No way you could know here this goes and

    Once was way too much and
    Twice won't be enough and
    Love can make you strong but
    Not when it's this wrong, no.

    Got you pegged; lost your edge.
    Retrospect has been rechecked.
    And this duet is just mislead so instead
    call it; it's dead.
    Did you double-take when you over paid
    for this sad display? How's the aftertaste?
    Did I hear you moan when you're all alone?
    No way you could know this goes and

    Once was way too much and
    Twice won't be enough and
    Love can make you strong but
    Not when it's this wrong, no.

    Did I hear you chock on your overflow?
    There's the door turn off the lights as you go.
    Did I hear you beg? It's a double edge.
    No way you could know here this goes and

    Once was way too much and
    Twice won't be enough and
    Love can make you strong but
    Not when it's this wrong, no.

  • Double Wide
    Words and Music by Beth Thornley

    She's always a picture you didn't know you'd get.
    Today it's her cleavage in an off-the-shoulder dress
    that's a little more tight but fit nice in '85.
    Now follow her please to the booth by the window.

    She drops menus on the table like a bad relationship.
    She used to like the small talk but she's gotten over it.
    And she's so very tired, see, quitin' time's unclear
    'cause this summer job has last 27 years.

    And now sometimes she likes makin' the new girls cry.
    And sometimes she walks slower if you're stuck behind.
    Yeah, it's just so different than what she'd pictured.
    It's just so fucking quiet at her double-wide.
    It's so quiet at her double-wide.

    Tube tops were for white trash and screamed an easys score.
    Why fall for the bull if you could get the matador?
    Well, she made her plans' yeah her standards gonna land her
    on a tree lined street in a house that had french doors.

    In a room of wasted days he walked in like time well spent.
    She loved that matador. She loved him with intent.
    Then one day he left. She understands it now.
    He was shoppin' full price and she was only discount.

    And now sometimes she likes makin' the new girls cry.
    And sometimes she walks slower if you're stuck behind.
    Yeah, it's just so different than what she'd pictured.
    It's just so quiet at night in her double-wide.
    It's so quiet at her double-wide.

    She misses her son but remembers fondly when
    It was just the 2 of them. Her dresses fit her then.
    There's the macrame owl he made in 2nd grade.
    From the bottom of a bottle it kinda looks ok.

    The all-skate's almost over. She'll miss the glitter ball.
    You know it makes everything look better;
    even if it's really not better at all.

    And now sometimes she cries when the new girls say goodbye.
    And now somtimes she walks slower 'cause she's just so far behind.
    Yeah it's just so different than what she pictured.
    Yeah it's just so fucking quiet at her double-wide.
    It's so quiet at her double-wide.
    At her double-wide.
    At her double-wide.

  • Home By Now
    Words and Music by Beth Thornley

    You car's out in the driveway; your coat hangs by the door.
    And you're downstairs in your favorite chair like every night before.
    We have been a long, long time together in this house
    But baby if you lived here you'd be home by now.

    Everything you've ever done, you've done it on your own.
    And I guess I know by now how to be alone.
    Sometimes I think the same roof should be enough somehow.
    But baby if you lived here you'd be home by now.

    Now can't you see the light is on.
    And don't you know the door is open.
    Come inside before it's over.
    'Cause out there's just getting colder.

    I don't know which way to go; this road does weave and wind.
    And almost there is never where I thought I'd live my life.
    We throw away the best of days like they'll always be around.
    But baby if you lived here you'd be home by now.

    Now can't you see the light is on.
    And don't you know the door is open.
    Come inside before it's over.
    'Cause out there's just getting colder.

    I don't know what left to do; don't know what's left to say.
    It's hard for me to believe you wanted it this way.
    I miss you like an empty sky would miss its clouds.
    'Cause baby if you lived here you'd be home by now.
    Baby if you lived here you'd be home by now.

  • Bound
    Music by Beth Thornley and Rob Cairns
    Words by Beth Thornley

    You sucked the light out of the room again
    with your long eyes and upside down grin
    and I remember when I thought it'd end
    but it seems that your slow leak
    has finally flattened me.

    And now you're wonderin' what it is you do
    well it's become a too familiar rule
    that way your mood gets there before you do and
    I've run out of ways
    to make you feel ok.
    You must like it this way
    'cause you always got a reason and a "who shot John" but

    You're not bound to that cloud you drag around.
    You're not bound to that cloud you drag around.
    I have found that it only drags you down.

    And now you're wonderin' what it is you did
    that could make us all so sick of this
    but we take the hits when your sky falls in.
    And there's just no disguisin'
    your even horizon.

    And now we're all out of string and tap
    'cause the more we get the more it takes
    to patch you up and keep it all in place.
    And this endless game
    in this endless arcade
    keeps playing out the same
    'cause you always got a reason and a "who shot John" but

    You're not bound to that cloud you drag around.
    You're not bound to that cloud you drag around.
    I have found that it only drags you down.

    Caught between your Einstein rings and
    all of your imaginings
    momentum nears capacity
    but you won't let go of what you know you'd rather get to overload.

    You're not bound.
    You're not bound to that cloud.
    You're not bound to that cloud you drag around.
    It just brings you down.

  • My Glass Eye
    Music and Words by Beth Thornley

    I bend my words around quarters
    hoping that it might improve their worth.
    My little plan, it hasn't worked yet;
    they just keep falling right on through your hands.
    And lately I've been apples to an oranes world.
    All that plish never brought much in return so

    I've been flying kites in hurricanes to feel ok.
    I might even think I'm brave
    and maybe someday it won't matter what you say.
    But it's not today.
    No. It's not today.

    I'm well aware of my shortcomings.
    After all they're so reliable.
    But what I'd like is if you'd find that
    my glass eye is desirable.
    I'm spending time in disguises that you know too well.
    And you're not buying this swagger; it's too hard to sell so

    I've been flying kites in hurricanes to feel ok.
    I might even think I'm brave
    and maybe someday it won't matter what you say.
    But it's not today.
    No. It's not today.

    At least these hand drown maps with crooked paths
    are good for laughs.
    I'm looking for the "You Are Here." It's never clear
    and now the flashlight's dimming.
    And I can hear the winds twisting so

    I've been flying kites in hurricanes to feel ok.
    I might even think I'm brave
    and maybe someday it won't matter.

    Maybe someday I'll be better.
    Maybe someday it won't matter what you say.
    But it's not today.

  • Birmingham
    Music by Rob Cairns
    Words by Beth Thornley

    I'm goin' back to Birmingham;
    gotta hear long Libba sing.
    Mud and steel they take me back
    to where I first left everything.

    Bitter vine beats a line
    up to my back door.
    Covers all that could have been;
    what's not forgotten gets ignored.

    And it's in the blood and in the mud
    where the light turns red in his hand.
    And it's in the blood and in the mud
    down in Birmingham.

    Been a long time since yesterday
    when the water and dogs had somethin' to say.
    But it runs so deep and cuts so wide
    be a long, long time to the other side.

    The wounded pride gets baked inside
    the cakes of the WMU.
    And we know what's said when we turn our heads
    but don't know what more we can do.

    And it's in the blood and in the mud
    where the light turns red in his hand.
    And it's in the blood and in the mud
    down in Birmingham.

    Midnight comes without a breeze;
    thick and damp behind your knees.
    And unless you know, then you don't know
    what's been there that won't let go.

    And the church pews creak
    when the sinners speak'
    and the popsicle fans they bittersweet.
    'Cause you gotta work to beat the heat
    so says the man in the judgment seat.

    And it's in the blood and in the mud
    where the light turns red in his hand.
    And it's in the blood and in the mud
    down in Birmingham.

  • Done
    Music and Words by Beth Thornley

    It's been a while since I gave you the time.
    Been about as long since you were unkind.
    Piled up by the telephone, prety words to bring you home.
    Saved them for a rainy day when I threw them all away.

    Yeah, I'm done standing in the sun 'till I get burned.
    Done wish you were someone that you weren't.
    Done thinking if I only tried enough.
    I realize you never could be touched.
    Alright. Been fun. You suck. I'm done.

    I could cry or I could sit and wonder why.
    I could talk myself into believe I
    ever could have changed your mind;
    if I tried just one more time but I
    have to say I kind of like
    that it was me that said good-bye.

    Yeah, I'm done standing in the sun 'till I get burned.
    Done wish you were someone that you weren't.
    Done thinking if I only tried enough.
    I realize you never would be touched.
    Alright. Been fun. You suck. I'm done.

    Neither one of us thought I'd ever let you down.
    Took us by surprise when I finally looked around.
    Kid gloves and first aid kits.
    Piled up high and next to it
    prayers and cares and crucifix.
    Wasted, hopeless, useless.

    Yeah, I'm done standing in the sun 'till I get burned.
    Done wish you were someone that you weren't.
    Done thinking if I only tried enough.|
    I realize you never will be touched.
    Alright. Been fun. You suck. I'm done.

Rachel Moody
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