1. |
Cherry Blossoms
03:38
|
|||
|
I’m living in a silence that deafens like screams,
taking joy in tearing the cloth from the seams,
I want to fight someone that deserves it,
get hurt and feel like I have a purpose.
It’ll be much better than feeling nervous.
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
I remember warmth
in my hands from years long ago,
and now they only ever feel so cold.
Ice and fear from wrist to fingertip,
perhaps the fibres in my heart
are wearing thin.
My body is distraught,
so fed up with my skin.
My body is distraught,
so fed up.
I’m coming down with something
and I’m breaking from nothing.
I’m coming down with something
and I’m breaking from nothing.
But at least the weather’s nice.
At least the weather’s nice.
|
||||
3. |
Postmodern Art
04:45
|
|||
|
I never really wanted to go back
and now all I ever do is lose control.
My feet are worn, and there are cuts on my heels,
soak it in alcohol, let it burn.
Let it burn.
I’m fixing door frames
but breaking at the hinges.
I’m changing tyres of cars
with broken engines.
I’m torn paper taped together.
I’m torn paper taped together.
It’s starting to consume me,
but I will fight to stay afloat.
They’re taking pliers to my teeth
and I haven’t slept in weeks.
I need some kind of release
I need some form of release
I need some kind release
I need relief.
I’m fixing door frames
but breaking at the hinges.
I’m changing tyres of cars
with broken engines.
I’m torn paper taped together.
I’m torn paper taped together.
It’s glass shards in the carpet,
cyanide in apples.
I'm bottles about to burst,
if I snap I’m sorry.
I never meant for you to
see me like this.
|
||||
4. |
Empty Frames
03:13
|
|||
|
I’m replaying the past, but the filters are hazy,
blurring out images
of things I held dear to me.
I keep relighting the fire, it clings to my clothes.
Holds me closer, holds me closer
holds me closer, holds me closer,
and doesn’t let go.
My skin is potent gasoline,
my words are the purest oxygen.
But sure enough, but sure enough
but sure enough, but sure enough,
I’ll burn out again.
It’s 2:37, October twenty second, and I’m so tired.
|
||||
If you like see you at home, you may also like:
Kite Without a String
by Beach Moon/Peach Moon
One-man, shoe-gazey band's suitably summery follow-up to Paper Trail's last sunshine-kissed release by Cloud.
go to album
living in memory of something sweet
by dreamTX
Undeniable melodies swim up from beneath layers of distortion and effects, making this a psych-pop winner.
go to album
An easy-to-love combination of emo and jangle pop, the first full album from Spirit Night in eight years feels bathed in a golden glow.
go to album
Effervescent dream pop from Dianas, with delicate melodies and arrangements that swing from airy & minimal to dense & propulsive.
go to album
Sweet and surf-like pop with lackadaisical vocals from Bay Area favorite Justin Cheromiah.
go to album
Meticulously-crafted productions provide the backdrop for haunting, slowly-winding vocals on this gloriously shadowy EP.
go to album
Constant Smiles write ghostly songs, where haunting vocals are wreathed in fog and float over melancholy guitars.
go to album
