1. |
Fugitive of Love
04:13
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THE VESSEL BURNING IN IRON
CONSUMED THE WIDTH AND THE BREADTH
ALONG THE HEIGHT AND THE LENGTH
A TURNED DIMENSION IN FLAME
THE SIGN OF CERTAIN REVIVAL
A KICKING UP OF THE WIND
REACHING DOWN THE THROAT OF MY EXISTENCE
DEEP IN THE FIRE
LIKE TWO DARKENED EYES
I RETURN TO THE PLACE THAT I FEAR
NO SLEEP FOR TONIGHT OR TOMORROW
OR EVER, AS LONG AS I CARRY THIS BRAIN
SILENT AND TURNING
REMARKABLE AND DISCERNING
THIS HAUNT THAT I FEEL TIED TO ME
I’D BREAK FREE FOR HEAVEN
LIKE LOST ANGELS TRYING
TO GET BACK TO ANYTHING SAFE
DO NOT REFLECT ON THE FATE
OF HILLS UPTURNED IN A RAGE
I TURNED MY OWN SOIL AGAIN
AND USED THE BACK OF THE BLADE
I CUT A MOON IN YOUR SKIN
AND SOME STARS ON YOUR BACK
AND TOOK YOUR BLOOD TO THE SKY
AND MADE IT RAIN
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2. |
Black Metal
03:21
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BLACK THE WINDOWS
BOLT THE DOOR
DIM THE LIGHTS
AND TRY THIS TIME
TO HEAR THE SHADOW
AND SMELL THE SOUND
AND TO SEE THEM DANCING
WITH A BLINDFOLD MOUTH
ALL TO ME TEN VOICES SING
BIRDS OF PARADISE
TRAPPED IN TREES
TWEET TWEET TWEET
GOES THE LITTLE PINK
ARE YOU AFRAID TO BLINK
AND LOSE THE ONE THAT’S ME
EVERY NIGHT
IN SUFFERING
THE BRAND ON ME
KEEPS BURNING BURNING
EVERY TIME
I FALL ASLEEP
WHITE HOT DEMONS FOLLOW ME
WHAT’S TOMORROW
WORTH TODAY
SHE WON’T GIVE UP A PENNY
WHEN SHE WANTS TO PLAY
SHE JUST HOLDS IT TIGHT
AND SHAKES IT FREE
UNTIL SHE’S FACE DOWN ON A SLAB OF COLD BLACK METAL
WHAT’S TOMORROW
GOT TO DO WITH ME
SHE WON’T GIVE UP A SECOND
WHEN SHE WANTS TO PLAY
SHE JUST HOLDS IT TIGHT
AND GRINDS DOWN ON ME
UNTIL SHE’S FACE DOWN ON A SLAB OF COLD BLACK METAL
LET ME BE YOUR MEMORY
PAGES AND PAGES
OF MESSY INK
WRITTEN WHERE
JUST I CAN SEE
I’VE ALWAYS HATED MY POETRY
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3. |
||||
|
IN EVERYTHING
IS A LITTLE SEED
AND I CRUSHED IT UP
TO MAKE IT PURE
BEEN LOCKED UP ON THIS FLOOR
AND I’M NOT SO LONESOME ANYMORE
WHITE TURNS TO PINK
AND SAYS TO ME
YOU DON’T LOOK BETTER
YOU LOOK BRAND NEW
WHY DID YOU COME HERE
JUST TO PLUCK MY FEATHERS
WIDE RETAINING WALLS
OF STONE AND MUD
HOLD BACK THE RIVER
AS IT STARTS TO FLOOD
YOU SEE IT GETTING WEAKER
I SEE IT GETTING EVEN
MY MEMORY
IS A FADING TAPE
IT’S WASHING OUT
AND WEARING DOWN
IT’S GETTING HARDER TO MAKE OUT
THESE ARE THE THINGS THAT I SHOULD WRITE DOWN
ARE YOU LONELY
ARE YOU CRYING
ARE YOU LOOKING
ARE YOU TRYING
TO PULL YOURSELF OUT FROM INSIDE ME
PULL YOURSELF OUT FROM INSIDE
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4. |
Flamingo (Demo)
04:37
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SING ALONE,
IT'S MY WORLD.
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Colloquial Sound Recordings
If you can do it better than me, then you do it.
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