1. |
Brigadiers
03:04
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Hang your hair, you don't seem right.
And carry it back.. carry all the heads back,
You know those things won't spike themselves at the borders.
You know those things can't see themselves around the corners.
This and every night we spend
Tied up with our mirrored history.
When you boil the substance down,
And when your ignorance glows,
You'll high-five all the breathless brigadiers
When they say that you should know.
This and every mirrored history.
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2. |
Powder Post
04:14
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Since I fell off the grid
I formed the plan to keep plummeting
Through the map, tunnel into the wood it was pinned onto
So dust fills my ears
I'll carve rivers here,
I could get used to the distant howling,
Eating bug shoes.
Yes I know I'm powder post, so my head still shows,
My body's in the sawdust.
Leaving holes, I blister false and don't stop once,
With razor legs I caught up.
Lesser pests will need more steps, I'll sink ships yet
By chewing through the awning.
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3. |
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It doesn't matter what I stick to the walls
They only come alive with you inside.
It doesn't matter where the sickness resides
You are the hour arm I'm swinging from.
A native away and a tourist at home,
Please pin the borders back.
This city will help me spit my teeth again,
Just pull on the rib-like wire to watch me sail and spin.
This city will help me out in getting out
Just pull on the collarbone coil.
It took a year to stop and focus my eyes
They wandered long enough, then stuck and shut.
I never knew i'd jump the yawning divide,
Now all the other ruts don't seem so tough.
This truck could loosen up its cargo so much
That it leaves a trail that we will follow
Until it reaches some great shining wall.
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4. |
The Greenland Problem
04:32
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So you're Martel surveying the scene over frozen sea
You broke the sheets and turned them green,
Stones that lift the trees.
In major cracks that split the screens; even number theme.
When the cat comes home with bad news
No cream, no shirt, no shoes
Roll it over so the freeze frame will decohere
Until the branch decays
When the rocks lay down the seascape
No land too big to break
We're screaming embers in a test tube
The proof the fire is in a filthy mood
When the crystals pinch the last fuse
No belt, no book, no bruise
It comes too late to test you,
The proof the floods were due.
So you're Martel surveying the scene;
Stones that never breathe.
But this is still the North Sea,
Still our skin will freeze.
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Vasco Da Gama Liverpool, UK
Liverpool four-piece creating a dynamic and unpredictable racket, incorporating Latin rhythm and pop sensibility into the math-rock sound of 1990s Chicago and Washington DC.
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