1. |
Manchester
03:21
|
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along the lane
footsteps and fog lights
a wayward storm of recollection
shadows of stakes in the churchyard
leave misbelieving eyes red with aversion
nobody would believe what I've seen
as the voices call out spectral
and the bells they chime alone in the snow
and so I scream but no one can hear it
in this empty room between heaven and hell
a single witness bears the haunting
feverish dreams of those that reach up
from the darkness only to bleed dry
the innocence of skepticism
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2. |
In A Room With Bears
03:29
|
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billowing from smokestacks
the wasted breath of legionnaires
crawling from stateside
a plague dragging broken glass
across this nation asunder
if we're living like we're dead
let's spend this night forgetting
everything you ever thought you knew about us
buried deep under a falling out
underground it all comes clean
under the assumption
fed through a static medium
to those chomping at news print
slander and libel broadcast from overseas
you'll watch us drown beneath
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3. |
There Were Monsters Here
03:38
|
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in the grander scheme of things
it feels like the snowfall
kicked indoors by our weary feet
and these soles that fail to breathe
when I'm not left with another day
it will be the nights I long for
so I can soak in the glow of an empty room
beneath the loose threads
the ones we pulled to escape the cold
there’s an empire built
built on mementos and subtlety
we built this on goodbyes
with shoddy bricks and never minds
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4. |
Everybody On the Ground
03:49
|
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kerosene lamps lend to tunnel vision and disaster
as the evidence shrouds indefinitely
that once beaten path
marked with warnings and distress calls
she said I'm losing ground here
steadfast and falling so
‘x’ out the woes
of chasing a fighting chance
uncertain highs and longing
cascade over withering lows
and etched onto bone are the words to put it all to rest
but on the surface the flesh is curious and flammable
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5. |
Like Wolves
03:51
|
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watching as the skies part and recede
exposing cold steel pointed at the ground
we're looking down the barrel of a plane crash
and staring blankly at monitors
pumping narration into fertile lives
barking orders from a world away
lining caskets with feeble minds
it's no surprise we continue
to feed on hollow points
their war machines keep on burning
bridges from across the pond
as western messiahs fly blind
at the control of a preemptive strike
their treaties and conventions
a facade like wolves
drape across peasant shoulders
searching through wreckage and debris
for a bedside prophet
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6. |
Matchless
04:43
|
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as it falls to dysfunction and unanswered calls
those open window nights will pull the blinds
and leave those backseat sprawls to burn up
under the heat of the moon
the hands left spinning will twirl and fade
like the horoscopes and paper trails
that we procured from what seemed
like states away
the broken bottles and the fathoms in between
crash together much like waves
and in our fixated stare we will spill over
and into stolen time
as our eyes grope their way past midnight
i'll spend the seconds in between gasping for life
as our lips cast shadows on those heavy lines
you'll leave behind your familiar sigh
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