1. |
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|
Awake again,
And take a drive on the inner state.
'Cause you've shackled up these bones
In old torpor, fear and weight.
But in the bluster thick thought speech,
You were your own perfect audience,
And so you spoke yourself a home
But home is all you'll never be.
Say you won't take it sitting,
Say you won't take it sitting,
Oh lord, don't take it sitting down.
Awake again,
And take a drive on the inner state.
And oh hell, I know for sure,
It's all come on way too late.
I saw you smile in a photograph,
It was dated 1985.
Oh hell, that's a long, long time ago,
And now you'll never shake, no, never.
Say you won't take it sitting,
Say you won't take it sitting,
Oh lord, don't take it sitting down.
Kill all your darlings for me,
Kill all your darlings for me,
Kill all your darlings for me,
Because they love you back,
But they're taking you
Right down the ways you've been before.
They'll take you, they'll take you,
I know, I know.
They'll take you, they'll take you,
You've been static so damn long.
They'll take you, they'll take you,
Oh tell me about the place that's not there anymore.
I know it feels like safety, I know it feels like safety.
But oh, who's to know, and who's to say
That anything I've said means a goddamn thing, anyway.
They'll take you, they'll take you,
I know, I know.
They'll take you, they'll take you,
I've heard it all before.
They'll take you, they'll take you,
Oh tell me about the place that's not there anymore.
I know it feels like safety, I know it feels like safety.
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2. |
|
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|
Rustlin’ cattle all day long,
And sweating under a fluorescent sun,
You need some teeth to pull yourself ahead.
He’s tearing down, he’s cutting up,
He’s made of dirt and piss and rust,
He’s trying hard to be the things he has.
It ain’t all good but he sure knows,
It’s how it goes, I s’pose, I s’pose.
Man made God and God takes man,
So we’ll take for ours just what we can.
We should’ve gone, we should’ve stayed,
We should have broken up our names,
We’ll rub our ruddy skin until it’s raw.
Drive until you reach a place,
Where people find themselves in fate,
And I will show you where you bought the line.
It ain’t all good but we sure know,
It’s how it goes, I s’pose, I s’pose.
Man made God and God takes man,
So we’ll take for ours just what we can.
Lincoln, Lincoln,
I’ve been thinking,
What the hell have you been drinking?
Is it water? Is it wine?
Oh my God, it’s turpentine.
[track quality based off mp3 render due to impossibly stupid loss of some project files]
|
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3. |
Pauper King Photographer
05:45
|
|
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Pride yourself,
You don't know any other way.
What the hell,
It'll be insipid anyway.
Wear it well,
And thank these lackadaisy days.
By yourself,
You'll say 'It's over, it's over, it's over.'
Well,
You sold it to get this,
And now it's almost over,
And all I said was...
You sold it to get this,
But it was always worth it,
And all I said was
A little self-respect won't buy you that, no.
And again,
I don't know any other way.
Hell I know, for sure,
It comes in heavy, heady ways.
Here he is,
The pauper king photographer.
Take your shot,
And say 'It's over, it's over, it's over.'
Well,
You sold it to get this,
And now it's almost over,
And all I said was...
You sold it to get this,
But it was always worth it,
And all I said was
A little self-respect won't buy you that, no.
Oh, do you remember at all?
|
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4. |
White Elephants
03:35
|
|
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|
All these ranks of people riding around
On bone-white elephants and calling out
‘Oh my life to get down, and touch the dirt,
And turn this into something meaningful.’
And in all the people’s estimation,
There’s nowhere quite like this place.
With its carnival sounds and bright white lights,
Who would make a dead-end so beautiful?
The night air lies in a restless still,
In a moment of pure starlight.
These people dream in monochrome,
And a breeze kicks up in the streets below.
We all break limbs trying to keep pace,
But it always ends in the same damn place.
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5. |
Slow Your Bones
04:31
|
|
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|
He came through radio, he came through wire.
With flickers at his footsteps, oh,
He came through all of you, soft sick desire.
Found me waiting every time and,
Oh, he steps through the widest eaves with inimical ease,
And a nickel in his hand.
It’s heavy, but he’ll make it worth your while.
His boots are cinder-bricks, jacket like the night.
If you listen you can hear him,
‘I—
Will slow your bones,
Slow your bones.
And if I could,
I’d own your bones.’
These ain’t my salad days, this ain’t my prime.
I’ll open up my gutters to the night,
And feel that stain on me, those hellish eyes.
It’s slowing up so quickly, oh,
He’s on the gantry now,
He came to make me sweat.
In the hollow air, he’s dancing on my grave, oh
I hear that fearful noise,
It’s gonna break my neck.
He’s laughing, louder every second oh,
‘I—
Will slow your bones,
Slow your bones.
And if I could,
I’d own your bones.’ [x2]
Good God go!
I, I, I, I
Will slow, slow, slow, slow your bones.
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Cathouse Canary Melbourne, Australia
Cathouse Canary were formed in 2009. Pre-apocalyptic indie rock, shambolic but lively, loud but kinda sweet.
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