1. |
||||
The house,
That I grew up in,
Was split in three,
With two-thirds yellow and one-third bright pink.
In the first,
With its off-red bright bursts,
Worthless words and angry eyes,
Were soon etched inside me.
The house of two,
Though bright, felt blue and grey.
Underneath its roof,
You and your man remain.
And two gold stars hang high,
And let out two great sighs,
With emerald eyes.
The house,
That I grew up in,
Was triplet shades,
Each parceled hue partitioned by each face.
In the third,
Filled with words that I heard,
"Is walls of gold,
And bright-filled souls,
That soak in light for days."
|
||||
2. |
Concrete
04:05
|
|||
There's a heart in all of us
And a part that likens us
We are concrete
We are drunken thieves
We are bound and weak
I stomp concrete expanse
And I stomp concrete expanse
There's something inside of me
Pour it out so I'll be free
We are drivers
In the future
We leave black trails
For your common views
I stomp concrete expanse
And I stomp concrete expanse
|
||||
3. |
New Lungs
04:15
|
|||
New lungs with day-old air
To help me breathe crystal clear
Filter our the spit and time
Let me in your atmosphere
New lungs for all who care
Four new ways to breathe air
To the sky you look down
To our kids this isn't fair
Let me in your atmosphere
Let me in your atmosphere
Let me in your atmosphere
|
||||
4. |
Euro
05:29
|
|||
Total slaughter.
Total slaughter.
I won’t leave a single man alive.
Total slaughter.
Total slaughter.
La di da di dai,
Genocide.
La di da di duh,
An ocean of blood.
Let’s begin the killing time.
Oh, thinking is hard to do.
Oh, thinking is hard to do.
Oh, thinking is hard to do,
When you write it for us all.
Thinking is hard to…
And you write it,
You write it,
You write it for us all.
And you write it,
You write it,
You write it’s psalms and curses,
Textbook verses,
Catalyze the silence,
Race war violence.
To tear our fucking face off.
Tear our fucking face off, will you?
And you write it,
You write it for us all.
And you write it,
You write it for us all.
While the colors fall to curbside.
While the colors fall to…
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
Tear our fucking face off,
Tear our fucking face off, will you?
Yet the silent truth will capsize,
While our fingers cling to lifelines,
While the crew falls overboard,
While the lying ocean tears our fucking face off,
Tears our fucking face off,
Tears our fucking face off,
Tears our fucking face off…
Well.
Oh, thinking is hard to do.
Oh, thinking is hard to do,
When you write it,
You write it for us all.
|
||||
5. |
||||
What at firsthand,
Seems at most a silent ghost:
Imposed, cautious distance.
What a firsthand loss,
A recluse grasping at straws.
Countless quiet thoughts,
Overflow and are untold.
What a firsthand lie,
To equate silence with gold.
What at firsthand,
Makes our foes bend back their bows,
Is our cautious distance.
What a firsthand loss,
To keep closed at such low cost.
We’ll slip with each landslide.
Oh, but I’m missing you,
Oh, but I distance you,
Oh, but I distance you.
I cannot listen,
No, I just keep distance from you.
But I’m missing you.
Countless quiet thoughts,
Overflow and are untold.
What a firsthand lie,
To equate silence with gold.
What a firsthand loss.
…
Thus I throw,
This fragile frame,
Into the water,
Into the depths of insecurities.
And their ghosts,
Will shout my name,
Unto the water,
Until their liquid bodies pour o’er me.
So…
Go.
|
New Lungs Seattle, Washington
Wes Gonzalez
Nick Emard
Rob Granfelt
Scott Rixon
Gehrig
Uhles
We saw stars. We saw spaceships. We heard songs of the ages and saw lights in the eyes of our enemies. Now we see nothing. We sit in a cave in the dark and revel at the sound of dust settling.
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