1. |
Both Palms
03:48
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Can you reach my neck with both palms?
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2. |
Rats
03:24
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Two tears in a bucket you motherfucker.
I hold myself up on the altar.
I'm sick of these streets.
I'm sick of this city.
I'm sick your kin.
I'm sick of these rats.
I'm sick of the mice in my apartment and these fucking bedbugs
You fucking rats just bleed me dry.
Its in my head. It's metastasized.
I can't take time with the knife I just pick and pull and I pick and scratch.
I go west to the needles end.
The final kick. It makes me sick.
To kick the bucket.
You fucking rats just bleed me dry.
Its in my head. It's metastasized.
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3. |
Mannequins
03:30
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With them all around me I lie away and lie awake.
With the candle burning.
No worship here just a big mistake.
Like the rent in your name when the passions slips and the eyes start to drift.
Just hoping my eyes won't cry.
Soft spoken
too open
never did too much for you
Pondering the glass you're weakened at the knees
Like a mannequins placid.
To the branches to the seas.
I write this song for me.
Just hoping my eyes won't cry.
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4. |
Crescent Moon
04:04
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Her skin is pale.
Nails painted.
Your arms are weak.
Looking at her.
Your stomach it churns
and your knees are weak
But how could you want more?
How could I stare at the crescent moon?
The getaway car that sits on the edge of town between the ferns and the evergreens.
The mannequin that peers through the window into your broken life.
Drowning in the cold consumerist eggshell white.
Like a saint to the weak.
Like a pulpit.
On their knees.
How could I stare at the crescent moon?
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5. |
Philistine
03:05
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You can't crucify me.
I die for my sins alone.
In time I'll pacify me.
On stage with no voice to show.
Tonight, can you hear me?
Tonight, can you hear me?
hear me?
lurching in my gut.
A lump in my throat
and everything is so
cussing out my name
cussing out my name
you philistine
Tonight, can you hear me?
Tonight, can you hear me?
hear me?
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6. |
Palm Leaves
04:09
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Bad friends and animal sheets.
I just tell you my name, but you just tell me "whatever"
Bad sights and even worse deeds
man I'd ask you for help, but you'll just tell me "whatever"
Bad sins and even worse deeds
man I'd tell you its cool, but I'll just tell you whatever
Bad friends and mescaline
man you tell me stay cool, but I'm up in the heavens.
Take time, it's you and the youth.
You're apathetic.
The palms leaves layeth like green specters.
Half lit on the set floor.
Bathing in spurious electric luminosity.
A pity fortune.
A mercy pence.
The leather gloves slip off my hands.
Reduced to you.
Reduced and redundant.
Take time, it's you and the youth.
You're apathetic.
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7. |
Saints
03:32
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I set the fire the flame
but my eyes they're the same.
Haven't been this much since eighteen.
I hope your body goes frail because your skin is so pale
that it makes me feel disgusted.
A chapel of kids filled with injustices.
I hope they burn before they find they're loveless.
Let your saints unwind this time.
The shots ring like a siren.
I want to purge them all into silence.
You emanate like a diamond.
I'll bet it cuts in deep when you'll find it.
Who here can remind me of where my love for life and the time went?
It was taken away by the convent.
Let your saints unwind this time.
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Pious Youth Hamilton, Ontario
Cold and unforgiving darkwave from the depths of
Hamilton. DIY. Experimental.
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