1. |
||||
|
Golden nights with blood stained mornings and afternoons.
The lonely walls of this house, they spy on everyone (when I was pulling my hair and taking pulls of wine). They laughed at me when I pretended to have a spine.
We finally made up our minds to leave and watch the sunrise, but the sky was cloudy and we were just two bodies on the hillside screaming and grabbing, tossing and turning, and leaning our bodies against each others. We were just two bodies screaming and grabbing, tossing and turning, and I awoke in an empty bed.
I'm learning that heaven is grey, and we're all just bodies, screaming and grabbing, tossing and turning, and leaning. We're all just bodies, screaming and grabbing, tossing and turning, and choking.
|
||||
2. |
Dramatic Irony
04:48
|
|||
|
The long sought out rest was put on the back burner. And if the summer sun requested you raise your glass and lift your fists to the sky you failed--in search of God but falling for false profits.
As wretched leaves fall heavy on your head, the fear of death, the fear of breathing her last breath, breaks your neck. The cold wet ground may be a kinder place to rest. It's such dramatic irony--the only door you've yet to close now is buried under ground, keeping her body asleep.
It's such dramatic irony, how only tragedy can bring you sleep.
|
||||
3. |
Closure
00:38
|
|||
4. |
More Like Scheme Shitty
03:51
|
|||
|
Stay young and naive while you still can, because this world will age you. And I wish I wouldn't have so often stopped my human heart and halted my natural trajectory.
Now I can't find a medium between release and real life, between tweenage and twenty-something, between my cozy room and my dirty basement.
And it's your eyes on me now. I was young once with you, but I've grown old in your memory. You're still alive in my memory.
|
||||
5. |
Winter Blues
04:48
|
|||
|
Last night we reveled at your house. Nintendo 64 was bumpin'. All of my punk rock friends were there, but all I could think about was the missing beer in my hand. Everyone was speaking in tongues, or I was an alien, feeling so distant from my self and everyone.
These days I feel like this winter's never ending. It's so beautiful but I'm just too preoccupied to care. These days I feel like it's never getting any better.
Last night I kissed you goodnight, then I rolled over on my side and cried myself to sleep. I know that it's been a whole year, but sometimes I feel no different than those nights that I first met you, for better or for worse. I just keep pushing you away. I just keep taking you for granted.
These days I feel like this winter's never ending. It's so beautiful but I'm just too preoccupied to care. These days I feel like it's never getting any better.
I got a phone call from an old friend, from some prison in Kenosha County. He said it's been almost two years since he's been staring at the wall and cursing himself to sleep. Perspective puts me in my place, but how did I get here? My world is so bright but my eyes can't see anything.
These days I feel like this winter's never ending. It's so beautiful but I'm just too preoccupied to care. These days I feel like it's never getting any better.
|
||||
6. |
Days
03:54
|
|||
|
Days like today, there's nothing to do and everything to say, but it all gets lost or it floats away. Days like today, I'm gonna make the best of it, pick up the pieces and figure out what's left of it. But the ghost of the past six months keeps laughing in my face. And the ghost of the past two years just won't go away.
The stains on my carpet are my best fucking friends today. The carvings on the inside of my mouth tell my life story. Each strand of lose hair lingering on my shirt that I have pulled out from my head shows a picture of my past, of who I am and where I've been. But today I'm taking it all in. Today I'm breathing it all out.
Days like today I swear my heart could crawl right out of my chest, because it's been screaming and rattling it's cage for far too long. Starting today, I am done making excuses for myself and selling myself short.
But the ghost of the past six months keeps laughing in my face. And the ghost of the past two years just won't go away.
|
||||
7. |
||||
|
I'm finding myself afraid of black hooded sweatshirts
I'm finding myself afraid of freckled skin
I'm finding myself afraid of dyed black hair
I'm finding myself afraid of crooked teeth
I'm afraid of the familiar unintelligible moans mumbling something self-deprecating. I'm afraid it's too familiar--the way that her back arches and clutches itself into a ball away from me. Why do my hands feel like claws?
I like to bleed. It's something self-deprecating. But it seems these days I can't locate the source to cauterize the cut.
I gave you know final words. I placed no flowers on your body. You were buried with my last drop of blood, and now I'm left dry.
|
||||
8. |
Kill The Past
04:13
|
|||
|
There is absolutely no such thing as closure.
Bridges hang on hinges.
Memory is imperfect.
Memories deceive you.
People will leave you.
Memories will die.
People will die.
You will carry on.
You will find new meanings.
You will learn from old mistakes despite the way you hesitate.
Kill the past, kill the past.
Those feelings won't be coming back now.
Breath the air.
Feel the ground.
Those tears won't be coming back now.
|
||||
If you like Statures, you may also like:
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
Hushed, low-lit, folk-based music from Wales that recalls Mojave 3 at their most beautiful.
go to album
Melodic post-grunge that eschews all of the negative connotations of that phrase and embraces all the positives: huge hooks, huge-r riffs.
go to album
From Where I'm Standing
by Gilah
The latest EP from Brooklyn’s Gilah is an explosion of sound and color, with oceanic guitars and dreamlike melodies.
go to album
Utterly gripping doomgaze lit up by the haunting vocals of Michelle Malley make Iress a band to watch.
go to album
Intimate lo-fi transmissions from a land glimmering with fairy lights.
go to album
Sweet and surf-like pop with lackadaisical vocals from Bay Area favorite Justin Cheromiah.
go to album
