1. |
Glasgow
03:31
|
|||
|
The more brittle that I become with the winter freeze
Brings me down to the root of the tree.
Blown in the wind, I lost track of home
Knowing where I’m from isn’t where I belong.
The James, it flows beyond the bridge
Where a piece of my ripped up soul rests
In a town that shouldn’t exist
I always felt there was something there that I had left
I wrote it on the back of a placemat with a knife and you kept it
I’d had it forever in my head and you kept it
And good friend, at the very first freeze
I always start to believe that you're leaving me
Like the Spanish moss hung in the gnarled trees
I will watch the days pass on forever
It was a red, yellow, and brown mix
Something to look at, something to feel
In a room placed between my lungs
I wrote it on the back of a placemat with a knife and you kept it
I’d had it forever in my head and you kept it
And good friend, at the very first freeze
I always start to believe that you're leaving me
|
||||
2. |
Calendar's Song
05:15
|
|||
|
Circles and indifferent shapes
Set by seconds in their proper pace
It ticks while I'm talking
And drowns out my prime
I'm sick of the time skips
Sorting squares that I swear don’t exist
I’m now aware of the afternoons I'm losing
My future manifests
Unless I'm too reckless
Voids thrust upon by the will of our hands
In the name of my friend
Drive
It’s time I say that this is enough
Or let the clock face tick me off
Drive
It’s time to say that this is enough
Or let the clock face dictate us
Grab the reigns while you can
Know that these lines do not exist
I'm bound by calendar clocks
I am now forever not
Open up
I’m opened up
|
||||
3. |
Pyramid
03:11
|
|||
|
These are moments when I realize
Where the ladders of society are
It's in the brisk wind of the bus as it passes
It's in the solar glow of cigarette ashes
It's in the need to feed my addiction
Wearing thin the patience of those who witness
I am pretending not to read your cardboard signs
‘Cause I see guilt in your eyes and mine
Isn’t the silence just damning?
How can you blame me for not caring?
No, stranger
I won't give you benefit of doubt
I'm overexposed to an echo
I'm over
|
||||
4. |
Ontario
03:00
|
|||
|
Biting cold, Burning lungs
These are the first signs that I’m feeling old
Not the fifth street tunnel on a February night
I’ve felt the sting and the surprise
Of a tortured “has-been” with stage fright
Not the meaningful singer at the fireside
Ontario, please wait for me
I'm letting go so impatiently
Oil paints, expensive cars
Dragging my body to shitty bars
These are my first few failings on a winter night
If left alone they would die
I was never excited to say goodnight
With the few rehearsed lines that I’d recite
Ontario, please wait for me
I'm letting go so impatiently
And I will cut off the both of my ears
Just to prove you’re worth my years
|
||||
5. |
Southern Trees
05:17
|
|||
|
An Ice age has melted before me
and 10 years has been way too long.
And I’d say I would come right home to you
but beyond Mason-Dixon I am lost.
I’d reach out and grab the past before me
But nostalgia’s choking out my thoughts
Abbeville: the birthplace of my name
Blown off the course of azalea roads
And I’m stuck here in the sands
Breathe out a warm summer wind
I’m waiting till the sun goes down again
Abbeville: the birthplace of my name
Virginia is calling out
Atlanta, Georgia is doing the very, very same
Virginia is calling out
The Carolinas are doing the very, very same
I’ll float down the James
From Richmond to Rockbridge
I carry a heavy weight
My southern blood is what I bleed
With southern trees watching over me
A Carolina Wren
Was perched at the top of a wooden fence
A sad song it sang
As your procession pushed through the rain
I am assured of my history
I am unsure of its destiny
|
||||
If you like Play It Slower, you may also like:
Dressed in Trenches
by Lifeguard
Chicago teen trio Lifeguard make their Matador debut with a composite of two EPs, including last year's great "Crowd Can Talk."
go to album
Коли ми були разом
by Я стану краще
Great, gutsy rock & roll from Kyiv, where radiant guitars surround triumphant vocal melodies.
go to album
The Divine Madness of Spring
by Sleeping Witch & Saturn
Terrific goth-y post-punk from Pittsburgh full of knifepoint guitars, threatening atmospheres, and vocals delivered with a scowl.
go to album
TV Priest's second record springs forth with a tension, dynamism, and crunch not often found in this brand of broody, shouty post-punk.
go to album
Impeccable '80s new wave and post-punk influences shine through on the second full-length from L.A.'s Adult Books.
go to album
450 / I Seek Misery
by Die! Die! Die!
This two-track EP from the Auckland-based post-punk outfit mixes punk and hardcore aesthetics.
go to album
The punk legends return with their first studio album in 35 years, featuring reworked fan favorites as well as all-new material.
go to album
