1. |
Nether
03:37
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Last one standing
Lemmings in the slipstream.
Rowdy overhead with a chance of cirrus bleeding.
Tumbling babies
Full can crushed – it's raining.
Drop the metaphors
And stop your complaining.
Only boring people get bored
(I'm an accountant with a funko pop collection and)
No dullard can ever be adored.
(I'd try to face myself if it weren't for all this contrition)
Only boring people get bored
(I read car magazines and get a kick from petrol stations)
No dullard can ever be adored.
Maybe I'll throw my brain a bone
And take a trip to the pub alone.
Learn the pluggy for the very first time
Until I've got four hands
And it's got one light.
“Survival” is a strong word for such a basic thing.
Between harsh syllables, still living,
Still living still breathing.
Face the corner, though you've done nothing wrong.
I just need you to ask that paint what's taking so long.
Only boring people get bored
(My organs are all beige to match my general disposition)
No dullard can ever be adored
(I'd sooner face the grave than seek a love with any friction)
Only boring people get bored
(Exiled to Wick because I can't commit to self-betterment)
No dullard can ever be adored
You wanted this, feeling worthless
A big ol' burden to yourself.
But where better than the arse-end of nowhere
To contemplate your own mental health?
Just keep asking the mirror,
Asking the furniture
Is this limbo?
Is this limbo?
All alone with hemispheres akimbo.
And between the panic attacks
The fixtures and fittings scream back,
“Face the firing squad!”
(The synapses collapse)
“Boy, you're on your tod!”
(Double back, double back)
See this through and I promise you
You won't have changed a bit.
It's a lovely hotel but, man,
I feel like shit.
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2. |
Big Grudge
04:08
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Kicking in frame,
The photo's ruined,
Dark room's gone bad.
Overexposed
Another summer spitting in a carrier bag.
Big drip,
Slow fade.
The cinematic memory's a dud.
Seething something,
Wants somewhere to call home,
With all his moss and his bones,
All in an orderly pile.
Breath in before you screech to a halt.
Binoculars 'round your navel,
Probably wearing them wrong.
It's something brand new,
But the proof only lives in your mind.
For all I know I could be old
In terms of something far beyond my understanding.
Patience rolled a spare
And I'm just left standing there.
Between the conifers
You lost a glove and three fingers to boot.
Claim it's all worth it,
Not some foolish pursuit of an untruth.
Once frostbitten, half as shy.
The cause has gained a victim
But lost no verity.
In your minds' eye, the horizon is peppered
With looming figures
Who inadvertently stole your digits
But fuelled your belief.
Breathe in
Let the sight fall on it's head.
I loved this elusive creature,
But now I wish it were dead.
'Cause with legs this long
I'm pretty good at kicking myself when I'm down.
For all I know I could be old
In terms of something far beyond my understanding.
Patience rolled a spare
And I'm just standing there.
Yeah I'm left standing there.
Oh, the truth is still out there,
But I'm left standing. Yeah.
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3. |
Aberdeen. Go To Toilet.
02:47
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[lyrics redacted on the request of The Granite Grub and The Flamegrilled Silverback, esquires]
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4. |
The Deed is Dumb
03:32
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Cut the chase entirely
I'm ready for the end,
'cause when time's as bendy a bastard as this
It's hard not to pretend
That anything between the now
and finale makes a dent
In a cosmic convalescence,
That I'm not actively trying to amend.
But it's all moot
If I'm not speaking out
And standing up for myself when I should be
Bellowing from the heart.
But an un-calm quiet chokes my instinct
Suppressing some audacious younger part.
An albatross around the neck
In the hand's worth ten in the bush.
No, I've never been a twitcher
With shove nor with push.
Though I'll keep waxing these wings, Icarus.
No avian preacher,
A heron on the banks
Of a river I've been drinking from,
Will ever draw my thanks.
Yet I'm still darning these wings
For dead Icarus.
An albatross around the neck
In the hand's worth ten in the bush.
No, I've never been a twitcher
With shove nor with push.
Though I'll keep waxing these wings, Icarus.
No avian preacher,
A heron on the banks
Of a river I've been drinking from,
Will ever draw my thanks.
Yet I'm still waxing these wings,
Still darning these wings,
Still covet those things
That can never be.
Sink the sun.
Boil the ocean.
Let the crops wither
And holidaymakers tan.
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5. |
A Sea Grave
04:45
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Gunmetal rising in the East,
Pennies swim in an old man's breath.
You tried to be disastrous
And overshot.
Harnessing the elements is child's play,
But guess my card, Messmer,
And I'll be yours for the best part of forever.
When set in stone
The truth can be unbearable,
So raise the dead
and cut your hair accordingly.
The stage is only lit from one direction;
Your eyes, they cast a shadow
On a crowd that's mainly made up of potential.
But what do you see?
The signs of life are lacking.
Rustle worried in your head,
That paper bag.
Occultly inclined,
The seafloor's a must.
The final trick in all its splendour
Always drags.
Assure me the rabbit's alive
In that hat, in that hat, in that hat.
Could you learn to believe?
To run the gamut of an art
Held in such medium regard
And you're the only tool on stage,
With saws involved
Is bravery unparalleled in nature.
Bears use caves for shelter
While you're hiding, watching
Charlie Bit My Finger.
Could you learn to believe
In nothing in particular?
Could you learn to believe
In nothing in particular?
Could you learn to believe?
But what do you see?
The sun was always setting.
The hanged man's always looming.
Rustle worried in your head,
That paper bag.
Occultly inclined,
The seafloor's a must.
The final trick in all its splendour
Always drags.
Assure me the rabbit's alive in that hat.
Be gentle if you're gonna saw me in half.
Chuck me in the sea and I'll swim
Even if I'm dead
For a laugh
Could you learn to believe
In nothing in particular?
Could you learn to believe
In nothing?
Could you learn to believe
In nothing in particular?
Could you learn to believe
In nothing?
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Broad-Shouldered Baby Glasgow, UK
The sporadic solo project of Tom Fraser, aged 29, just over 6 foot tall.
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