1. |
Obituary
03:50
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Hang them out in the yard,
from the tree they sway.
Burn the witches to mask.
Let the liars play.
It's not your fault that's the way it is.
It's a preliminary first kiss.
Won't you read him his rights,
necrophiliac
Forget the birds and the bees,
that ain't what brought you back
It's not your fault that's just the way you're made.
You're a machine, guillotine blade.
When my bones break, would you just lower me in?
As dark as the ink where your pen begins.
We've lived for far long we know
the difference between the blood and bone
Move the mountains aside.
Throw the stones away.
Take the blood from the limbs
and give it all to the brain.
It's not your fault you've had no chance.
It's second nature, this is romance.
Hide your tools in the back.
No one ever will know.
When everybody is gone
you'll hold your own funeral.
It's not your fault and you'll never mind
Another routine genocide.
When my bones break, would you just lower me in?
As dark as the ink where your pen begins.
We've lived for far long we know
the difference between the blood and bone.
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2. |
Maps
04:23
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We set off to sea on the last ship this evening. With the wind at our backs, the horizon consumed us like tunnels swallow trains from a track. Our wives and our kids said goodbye, said that soon we'd be back. But the ocean is cruel. We'd be fools to think we'd see them again.
For treasures await. As long as there's air in my lungs it's these treasures ill chase. The maps that we read, no matter how true, should lead us all home. They should lead me to you.
Constellations we trust have been here all along, yet we stray.
It's been months, it's been years. No ones sure where were going but I fear it's in circles again. Bring us wind, speed the current. We're not men anymore, we are slaves. Our end is imminent. Where you go you bring life and then you take it away.
For treasures await. As long as there's air in my lungs it's these treasures ill chase. The maps that we read, no matter how true, should lead us all home. They should lead me to you.
So what if we all just disappeared; and turned to sand? So what if we all just carried on? Blood or bread. Is there something waiting ahead? An island our home? Or are we condemned? Just ships cast away to sail alone?
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3. |
Caesium
04:00
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Our division is common but still consistencies remain. We are more than alkaline and moving hands. Do these measurements bind us, permanent. Is this device the only way?
Hours don't feel the same anymore.
Is your caesium even or odd?
If our frequencies should fail to align
would your seconds stop and wait for mine?
She is perfectly timed; digital. I am analog. We are only linear when we move apart. Do these measurements bond our chemicals? Is this the only way we know?
Hours don't feel the same anymore.
Is your caesium even or odd?
If our frequencies should fail to align
would your seconds stop and wait for mine?
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4. |
Crosses
03:52
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Carry your crosses
from some divine
sixes and sevens
to your afterlife.
We've been trying to
sink our claws into you.
Kingdoms bound and bruised.
We're built in twos.
Where do you want to go?
My chariot can't hold the weight.
Break the skin
into my veins
and swim before I sink.
You always show yourself in threes
before you melt to me.
Break the skin
Into my veins
and swim before I sink.
Nobody sins here.
Nobody minds.
We've recreated
an afterlife.
We've been trying to
sink our teeth in you.
A house decaying slow
into ruins.
I'll sink. I'll drown. Where bridges stood, I burned them down.
I"ll float, nearly convinced that my name stole space on that list.
When I have arrived I hear everyone's name but mine.
I am dying to carry your crosses.
I am dying to be what you wanted.
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5. |
Recover
04:42
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She casts her line away. One thousand times i will bite before she tears me from the lake. Our forrest thins. The soil that brought us trees
is now used to bury me, bury me, bury me.
We could paint over the walls with any color you want but the frame wont ever change. We could patch over the holes. We can recover.
We built this house when we were young. Now we don't build at all.
Cardboard statues line the halls. Her gods appear but they become her demons after all. Ill hold the flame to paper she has spread around.
Our neighbourhood is burning down, burning down, burning down.
We could paint over the walls with any color you want but the frame wont ever change. We could patch over the holes. We can recover.
We built this house when we were young. Now we don't build at all.
Make the fire separate. Gone. Keys keeping us; the is door is opening.
We will never be that brave. Take all you wanted. Take all you love
and box it up tight. If this foundation breaks there will be nothing left, nothing left, nothing left at all.
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