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The Master b​/​w The Mail

by A PREGNANT LIGHT

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1.
The Master 03:40
So we lit lamps A dancing masquerade The superior light For flakes of falling wet snow On our faces and in our hair The coldest story ever told The warmest smile you ever wore It’s not love unless you choke On every word I ever spoke Reach out your arms and let it bend Around the headrest and then Let it land atop my attic Full of pomade and prayers Eccentric as I am Unconsciously aware Like a Lord I will watch from above My capacity for living Counting flowers on the rug Let me cultivate an itch Strip the walls and paint your face A torment we both despise You dropped your hands I dropped my eyes I was never truly meant for this What a wretched busyness I’d rather die a hundred times Add eight more (to no surprise!) Janus, hold the gate I do not trust his double face Never took you for a coward 
Always read you as slave I left civilization For barbarism I took the key from his right hand And put it in my teeth and felt around In the dark for the door Until I felt the frame enter my hand Hot from the heat of what lay behind Like a Lord I will watch from above My capacity for living Counting flowers on the rug Let me cultivate an itch Strip the walls and paint your face A torment we both despise You dropped your hands I dropped my eyes I was never truly meant for this What a wretched busyness I’d rather die a hundred times Add eight more (to no surprise!) Janus, hold the gate I do not trust his double face Never took you for a coward 
Always read you as slave
2.
The Mail 04:08
Say hostage one more time And I’ll turn this truck around Until you reconcile The sharp black of tonight Under galloping foot You asked me to this And I merely obliged Clutching a lilac envelope A floral stamp and a lumped up throat Water mirage Gasoline Aspirin Lateral movement Congealing horizon Temper temper It’s too revealing A garrulous girl On an unbleached evening It’ll cost you about a buck to find out Stealthily folding on finger down Street cleaner Meter reader Post-man and woman We’re out to deliver The letter is heavy And the package is yours I can smell the curves Of the words and roads My body rights itself My words they write themselves In a most remarkable and rebellious stance Like telling time without seeing the hands Say “love you” one more time And I’ll tear this letter up And set the pages on fire Hell is for horses who sleep in the shade It’s by breathlessness that you can be made How many ways can I fold you up? Origami Don’t try to stop me I wanted to tell you but I never could tell So I send my songs out through the mail On and on and on I reckon All the times I tried to say this All the ways I tried to play this Broken blooms and fading fragrance Dresses strung with hopeful laces Don’t forget to tell the waitress She would never ‘ere betray us Sweet and low I’m bowing out On and on and on my treatise Until the sky returns for vengeance Trust the mail it’s never failed us Sweet and low I’m bowing out

about

8… the number that symbolizes infinity. No one knows where it starts or ends. It is an ongoing loop. And just like you’ve seen three times before this year, A Pregnant Light appears faithfully, with another two song single. Bringing the 2022 campaign to a total of eight songs… so far. “The Master” is a conversation between two people trapped between two worlds. Unsurprisingly, the two-faced Roman god Janus appears, to guide between youth/adulthood, life/death, war/peace and barbarism/civilization. It’s a desperate and dark plea, and not cloaked in as much metaphor as you’d think. The song is about that moment we all live in where for a second, we are between the past and future - and as soon as we recognize the stillness, we are enslaved by time and propelled forward. Remember this the next time you walk through a door. “The Mail” examines our lives as spiritual parcels in a cosmic, unknowable postal service. The mail is regular. Every day. Without fail. A stamp, purchased for mere pocket change is enough to bring your words to the furthest reaches of the world, straight to the doorstep of the intended receiver. How then do our songs reach out even quicker, straight from the hands and voices of the musician to the vibrating speakers into our ear drums. Letters and packages are never really lost, they just become songs. Sometimes, I get to send my songs through the mail. What a beautiful confluence.

credits

released September 27, 2022

Written, performed, and produced by Damian Master.

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