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1. |
Paper Tones
03:16
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Come back and stay, a notion much too much to entertain
A fluid coconstitution and reflect the illusion
Insane, erased, in the comingled melodies across your face
Endless interims lounging in the steeps of a drowned ring
I had a feeling that my breeding was a clock clicking down,
I made a deal when I was too diffused to cry or to crown
An amnion so wound I can't cut it with sound
Pull back, stray away, greedily consume through somatic states
And it just so happens I can match your dispassion
Come back, flood away, navigate the circuits to the surface break
The method's endured, I'm sure, for all its virtue
Cut it, cut it
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2. |
Doubtless
03:18
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Everything is forgiven
The ecstasy you take in ruin
The closeness there rescinded
And I'm indebted as you've given
I made a game that I can't win
But if you'll play then I'll join in
My interests are sized to fill your distance,
Still concern cultivates indifference
And I'm banking on your apathy
Cause it's so hard to just believe
That what you do is how it's seen
And it's already an overreach
To be the king and queen of bankruptcy
You know, you've really grown on me
It won't last
As nothing ever will
Accept this
And doubt it
Doubtless he's with dull dispassion for any gift that sticks with traction, you know how quick the grit can get ingrained
Doubtless she is clear as mirrors, better this than to have seen her, you know you wear it on your face for all your style
Your gifts and wiles
You wear it plain
A sore, a stain
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3. |
The Swelter Season
03:04
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Another swelter season is due to thaw the stagnant and break the cool
And the streets seep blue and bled like molten fountainheads
And if the whistling key is tuned, they will come craning to view
We can harvest all our contents. We like our young men dead
And their sons will inherit their names and ever after remain
But if the passage just doesn't fit right, we can defer it a while
An imbalance easily maintained, uniquely the same
You can inculcate the decay and dig into me the same
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4. |
Slingshot Torso
03:00
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5. |
Blank Scene
03:45
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Here we can stay set against
What's outside our influence
Free to disservice, you've earned this
The matter's immaterial
So hoard everything you can
I only owe my enemies
Given and safely kept
So stale and graceless
Remaining so placeless
While still situated
In one frame
The matter's immaterial
So hoard everything you can
I only owe my enemies
And now I'm completely spent
Lines unwatched tend to slide
And the obligation's defined by the passion you fail to find
Half awake, wait for trains, and I still feel I'm another way
Like a visitor to my days
It's a blank scene
It's a blank scene
It's a blank scene
It's a blank scene
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6. |
Antrum
06:01
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Teach it desire and fear of reprisal
And that the slow burn of seething conquers the braying and bleating
Teach it to ration and ration and delay and inaction for the moments to act on
Lacking antecedents, delayed in the keeping, exercise of restraint, buy out what you can't negate
Listless lacking interest, dulled until it's worthless,
Say it again, say it again, say it all wrong
No urge but aversion, hundred percent surface, thank you for the concern in all of your referrals
Dulled until it's grotesque, intimately expressed
No, I said it wrong.
The key to defile: to bathe within your idols, and routinize survival, too salient to inspire
further in the shelter, to sink within the tether of what once would weather
Lacking antecedents, delayed in the keeping, exercise of restraint, buy out what you can't negate
Listless lacking interest, dulled until it's worthless,
Say it again, say it again, say it all wrong
No urge but aversion, hundred percent surface, thank you for your concern in all of your referrals
Dulled until it's grotesque, too austere to express
No, I said it wrong.
Adequately governed, nothing left to unlearn, a sect of second nature, to reshape like it's paper.
Overarching constraint
A wealth of reflex motions as much as you own them, cherished gifts and burdens, known for what their worth is.
Repeat where the lack is, lean in first and say it:
No, I said it wrong.
A clean smoke
A hollow
Spaces gone solid
Threadbare
But followed
Neck deep in the shallows
Places
Made sacred
By warmth of
Associations
A white birch
A steep stair
A vastness
of still air
In these days
There's odd ways
To raise words
To blank slates
My voice
To toned breath
So empty
It offsets
Deep in the circuit
Where all thoughts are perfect
Secret window
Erasure that billows,
Billows as a clean smoke
A hollow
Spaces gone solid
Threadbare
But followed
Neck deep in the shallows
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7. |
A Beautiful Sedative
01:36
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Long day
My bones
Are turning
To rust
I squint
Hard while
The sunset fights the dusk
I only care about my current family
No, no
I care about anyone who's met me at all
Anyone who's met me at all
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8. |
Health
03:59
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Wealth of nations, drain it
Infect and occupy
The expectation can belie
That you're utterly upended
in not being real exceptions to the bagged eye, debt-slave, drone strike, male gaze, medicate compromise.
And does it get alright? It's already inside.
I'm weightless and sublime, all things fade with time
Get back, get back, get back.
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9. |
Reeling
02:34
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Although the recognition of existence's absurdity and the equal validity of alternative perspectives is liberation from the arbitrary line of fascist control, I find that I'm reeling constantly in a universe devoid of any essence and discordant with what I believe to be the needs of the soul. Attachment is resistance.
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10. |
Void Boy
04:53
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I was born with no reaction alight and beset and possessed by absent hands of brute that I couldn't understand
I was born askew in the motion, dug heels, rotten seeds inside the dirt, it's a drag when you're being drawn apart
Cold torpor and inanimate tides, we met one another in our appetite for dying and said "Alright, I can always stomach the dirt, and stomach some more,"
and remain invulnerable to the static and safe
it means absolutely nothing but more than I can say, and it's alright
It's alright if there's nothing to mean
Cause I'm a void boy, and I feed on distraction
and the thing staring back at me is just white refraction
Cause I'm a void boy, and a whale is in the deep
and my tongue's reaching to learn other words we'll never speak
Sting clinging in the fixtures and tides, though we're much too much embedded and all intertwined in the design of the vacant and the bottomless black to settle at that
And now speaking well before when this has all capsized, here will be home for a little while, and it's alright, it's alright to go, either's right
Cause I'm a void boy, and I feed on distraction
and the thing staring back at me, well it's white refraction
Cause I'm a void boy, and a whale is underneath
and my head will break and burn on the words we couldn't read
Drowned in the deep
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Bow & Spear Chicago, Illinois
Chicago grunge/shoegaze/grungegaze.
Born: 2010.
Died: Never. Bow & Spear will never die.
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