1. |
Purgatory
00:27
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They tell a story of a boy of a man of the south who couldn’t grow an inch if he pleased. But once the hours turn to days changed to weeks without sleep he tied a bag filled with his bones and his heart to the tree. Oh, how it grew to be me.
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2. |
Leather Wolves
03:23
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He’s left chasing his dead dreams and mistaking the time. His mind is always turning clockwise. He’s bartered numbers with the white house just to make sure someone’s on the qui vive. Never learned from his mistakes, dug himself a deeper grave. This place has stayed the same and it’s him that changed. Oh god, how it hurts to be who we are. Possessed to work with the best. Outlived his suit ‘til there’s nothing left. And he sit’s crossed legged while his body’s conjuring dust. He was the king of this county until they accounted for the lust. INFINITY IS JUST AN ENDLESS DREAM AND I CAN’T SEEM TO FALL ASLEEP. I’VE TRIED THE PENTAGRAM; I’VE TRIED THE CROSS. I STILL LAY AWAKE, AN OCCULTIST OF LOSS. That’s when he thought “I’ve got the drive of a winning bet and the rush of the horse that settled it. This must be what you meant when you said it will all go to your head.” And he wonders why they spit on his car when he drives by. And he noticed how they all look like ants from the ledges height. That’s when he said to himself “I’ll take what I get and give what I can but by the end I’ll have nothing left. I feel my soul slipping out of this chest and I don’t feel the need to hold it in. Let’s see about the pavement.”
Oh you leather wolf, someone pulled your skin too tight.
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3. |
Paradigms
03:30
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We laid in conviction, we sang ‘til the hooks sank. We were just neatly organized bags of bones with hearts that sang. Now we stay in addiction. Another reason to be, to stay, and to drink. Now your momma’s been drinking too much because she knows the only thing that stopped her daughter from reaching the bed was already said along with that piece of shit. He mistook his keys for the scotch and put his foot to the floor. Baby I could barely watch. Who would have thought? The last words that were said are forever stuck in my head. SURROUND MY SKIN UNTIL THE NEXT SONG BEGINS. SURROUND MY SKIN UNTIL THE LAST SONG ENDS. If only rock and roll could’ve killed you first. If only rock and roll could’ve killed you before the headlight’s curse. We’d still sing ‘til the hooks sank. We’d still be neatly organized bags of bones with hearts that sing. ANOTHER NIGHT IN THE HOSPITAL BED / ANOTHER NIGHT IN THE FUNERAL HOME / ANOTHER NIGHT WHERE I’M LEFT SAYING: SURROUND MY SKIN UNTIL THE NEXT SONG BEGINS. SURROUND MY SKIN UNTIL THE LAST SONG ENDS
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4. |
The Circulation
03:24
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OH, YOU ACCOLADE, DON’T GET CAUGHT IN THE GEARS OF THE SUN. GET YOUR FEET OFF THE GROUND; YOU’RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE YET. You’re an ocean made of fire. You’re my vice filled with desires. I want to take you home and make you just a little bit colder. I’m growing with every step but shrinking in retrospect. Tonight’s when I ask myself “What is fear but hesitation?” It seems that I’m never awake when the little saint is on my right shoulder. I’ve got a pain for you and it isn’t leaving soon. There’s a wind that feels just like a disease; it whispers for me to carry on. There’s a sun that’s just too bright to see; I know it’s there because I miss it when it’s gone. And when hell freezes over be wary of the one who let’s you know. The spirit and space become one as we’re undone. BUT THAT’S JUST IT / THE CIRCULATION / BACK AND FORTH / AGAIN AND AGAIN.
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5. |
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Chasing no white light. No interest in fate. Since death comes in three I’ll try my best to stay in 4th place. We’re all funerals waiting to happen. Always expecting less than beating hearts and pumping chests. We’re the anticipatory dead and death’s found her place in your bed. I’M DEAD TIRED OF CHECKING FOR MY OWN PULSE. MISTAKING THE BEAT OF A HEART FOR THE RATTLING OF BONES (if only love wasn’t so alone). This bathroom is just a place for me to recollect myself. But the man in the mirror is at my throat, I feel I’ll resurrect myself a dawn. Close enough but we’re out of cigars. My mind keeps wandering to the flowerbed sea, where I fear the man standing will be me. Where I fear I’ll see my friends pushing daisies. I’m dead tired of checking for my own pulse mistaking the beat of a heart for the rattling of bones. We’re all funerals waiting to happen. THIS IS PURGATORY LUST. ARE WE THERE OR IS IT INSIDE OF US?
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6. |
Broken Record
03:37
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7. |
Transcendence
03:43
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Be yourself in someone else’s skin. If the weight on your shoulders would move to your eyes, maybe then could you sleep at night? Be yourself in someone else’s skin. You’re a little late for the world to see that some are here to swim and some are here to sink. What will you represent when you’re given the chance? What will you represent when the chance was given and you missed it again? And collectively we’ll hear the earth say: You smoke like your father, you drink like your mother, you dream like the dead. Thanks for calling in. You always wake up in a new bed. That’s why your always livid like this. But if you could force a change I know you would.
MY DESTINY’S TO BE PARDONED BY EVER EXECUTIONER / FOR THE PURPOSE OF SEEING IT THROUGH / AND I HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE. Hands up, eyes on the road, I’ll see you soon.
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