1. |
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Molten veins of traffic
Drip down the ribs of the palisades
Inhale the polluted sunset
Falling in lavender waves
Life rhapsodically erupting
From the endless grave of the forest floor
We are the flesh of the night, that will be fed to the dawn
Nothing is carried over
Love is the only remainder
All my days, leave me strand by strand
I'll keep fraying until what's left returns to the land
Ain't no stain, twilight's vanished gold
Every season's bloom is soil for tomorrow
That will be fed to the dawn
Your pain will never leave you
Your love will always outlive you
Nothing is carried over
Love's the only remainder
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2. |
Dayshift
03:57
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Home. A 40 minute crawl, by public bus until I reach the prison walls.
No men behind the bars, sound of a fight set to drums and country guitars.
My mopped floor fills with light, as I hum the song I work on every night.
Chained to it's bars and beat, as my guitar weeps into the evening street.
Noone ever really had their life saved by a song.
Nothing ever changes with the chords and crying.
We'll keep writing down our wrongs, it heals us just enough to keep you dying, to keep you dying.
Years, have slipped right through my strings, like a bird that is caged by the song it sings.
There's music in my blood, in every drop that fills my hands that push this mop.
I hear the man in black, he's playing 'Greystone Chapel' against the yells and claps.
I was told it's Glen Shirley's song, that that gets out, well I don't give him long.
The heave of bodies roar, through the walls you can't tell if it's joy labour or fighting.
Their feet as they stomp the floor, they move in step with routine, the true music of their time here.
Noone ever really had their life saved by a song.
Nothing ever changes with the chords and crying.
We'll keep writing down our wrongs, it heals us just enough to keep you dying, to keep you dying.
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3. |
Swine Lake
04:11
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My body's light has long been extinguished
Touched by sun when they drained the lake
Earth's work on me is never finished
Unravelled by restless decay
Padre take me under the mountain
Lay what's left at an altar of dirt
The blood that fills your skin like a fountain
Runs like faith into the black earth
I moaned when the flood took my bwhite roses
Screamed when it's waters opened my door
I walked with the flood into my bedroom
Where it laid down with me everymore
A harvest of rust starts from the river
Dragging up my garden of clay
The swollen sign of paralysed buildings
The oozing corpse once known as Swine Lake.
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4. |
Endless Blues
03:25
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These endless blues are yours and mine
We will be snatched from this old world in perfect time
Darling i miss you but I'm so lead tired
I am 500 fathoms deep right by your side
Joy will come and go, feed and rob you
Sadness waits with open arms like a brother
You're the windless tree that keeps shaking
I see the roots of the love that you're faking.
We measure misery in metric tonnes while the known universe's life rounds down to none.
Your head's a garden, my heart's a home. A ruined mansion with a basement filled with bones.
Joy will come and go, feed then rob you, sadness waits with open arms like a brother.
You're the windless tree that's still shaking, I see the roots of the love that you're faking.
Dam the rivers of all your sorrow, it will break it's red banks by tomorrow.
History laps at these heels I'm dragging, poison blooms just wherever I'm standing.
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Naked Waste Melbourne, Australia
Primarily composed and performed on the bass guitar, Naked Waste is wounded folk scaffolded with arctic digital percussion and a mist of disembodied vocals. Something tethered to the geography of disremembered places—a communion of wonder and dereliction. These places of influence are used as a kind of vocabulary for the human interior— for unstable landscapes of self. ... more
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