1. |
Intro
01:43
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2. |
Misere Nostri
03:44
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3. |
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4. |
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The unpurged images of day recede;
The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed;
Night resonance recedes, night walkers' song
After a great cathedral gong;
A starlight or a moonlit dome disdains
Before me floats an image, man or shade,
Shade more than man, more image than a shade;
For Hades' bound in cloth
May unwind the winding path;
A mouth that has no moisture and no breath
Breathless mouths may summon;
I hail the superhuman;
I call it death-in-life and life-in-death.
Midnight on the Emperor's pavement flit;
Flames that no faggot feeds, nor steel has lit;
Oh don't stop
Don't stop
Don't stop on my account.
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5. |
Strawberry DNA
01:59
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i'm a river in a forest wide
i'm a shrivelled pine on a mountain side
at least, i have a view
i'm stuck on you
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6. |
Rub Me Raw
02:58
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antiquated rasps clamour down the
portal into wholly apathetic ears
chalk-line silhouettes mark every street
a game of freeze-tag played by grown-ups
towers topple on either side
where does all this lightning come from?
dry philosophy, torn and tossed
tinder for the poor man's fire
greedy fingers paint a fear
work the soil instead, my friend
revert to see-saw innocence
heart and head of equal stone
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7. |
Glowing Solomon
02:44
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we inhale sacred perfumes
together we make candlelight
drinking coffee in porcelain cups
good heavens, marry me tonight
frightening monsters through attic windows
we race greyhounds on our bloodbikes
feathered fevers in marble glaze
nightly nightly
your face glows solomon
i wish i were noble
i wish i was brave
X3
like you
under the sun
of writing books
there is no end
(annoint your heads with oil
clothe yourselves in white)
(annoint your heads with oil
clothe yourselves in white)
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8. |
Pills
04:56
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we sail our ship into the bay
and dive in twilight waves
whales crowned with forests
and mountains of villages
with candles in the windows
it is nighttime
the whales are spinning waves in whirpool fashion
the bay rushes out to meet its mother
and we are bruised on seaweed
in the wreckage there are rocking chairs
broken dolls, sewing machines
rusted cars, rocking horses
and bones, ribs and skulls
we hold hands because we are afraid
we hear the whistling and the rushing again
the moon pulls high the ocean's starlings
and then down and we drink our death
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R.I.P Jaded Hipster Choir Edmonton, Alberta
IT WAS FUN WHILE IT LASTED.
THOMAS IS STILL MAKING MUSIC UNDER 'GHIBLI'
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