1. |
nosebleed (demo)
03:11
|
|
||
|
I'm bleeding from my nose on the brand new couch
Wondering if the stain will ever come out
I try to stop it, but it's coming like a flood
Baptism in my own unholy blood
It covered all the parts I was and held them together
Was it the same on that December morning
A nosebleed in my mother taking form
Red and ready to be born and remembered forever
I was gone until I wasn't
But I'll be gone again for good
I thank God that there's no heaven
Because I wouldn't do it even if I could
I'm bleeding from my nose on the brand new couch
On my knees with my head in the fucking clouds
I wonder what will happen when I die
Blood pouring from my nose and brown eyes
Until there's nothing left inside
And I crumble together
There's no denying that I'm still my mother's son
Baptism in her own infected blood
It covered all the parts I was and held them together
|
||||
2. |
cathedrals (demo)
02:49
|
|
||
|
Humming like cathedrals in the gray
They move too slow to see
I've been watching them religiously
My eyes climb their slick sides
I break my neck to see the sky
Shivering in banks and concrete rooms
We're quietly alive, preparing our downtown tombs
A bird is crying lonely in its tree
I recognize the song, but it's sharp language is lost on me
I miss the sounds I didn't know I loved
The mower and the twilight bugs
The yellow finches and passing trucks
I need to drink my fill straight from a creek
And become the Licking River
And if Rose Run forgot her second son
I pray that she remembers
|
||||
3. |
coloured glass (demo)
03:29
|
|
||
|
Feels like my chest is October, each leaf a passing note
They pile up like an organ, pushing music through my throat
I make friendly conversation so I don't feel alone
But I don't talk about what I might know
And I try not to think about what I don't
I break apart when you see me waking up like colored glass
You smile soft like an open window, morning blooming from your laugh
Water's pouring from the stone now, your voice is a holy staff
Dark red sound interrupting the black
Your quiet whisper telling me to come back
I was terrified and angry when you found me in our room
You tried holding me together but I unfolded like a wound
You cut your palm like we were brothers and we both howled at the moon
I never really, truly prayed before you
But now everything we say comes true
|
||||
HIKING Louisville, Kentucky
If you like HIKING, you may also like:
Lazy Sun, Late Risers
by Happypills
Delicate bedroom dream pop with lyrics in Japanese.
go to album
Rickety, rollicking guitar-pop driven by Jilian Medford's disarmingly off-kilter delivery. Available on limited-edition colored vinyl.
go to album
Dream pop melodies and groovy rock make up this new release from the Toronto artist.
go to album
Lustrous soundscapes with delicate melodies and poignant lyrics piercing through like sunbeams.
go to album
Sparkling synthpop with an emphasis on high-wattage chords and the kind of melodies that burrow themselves deep in the brain.
go to album
A solarpunk concept album set in the not-too-distant tomorrow, Tom John Hall uses elegantly wrought art rock to tell a winding tale.
go to album
The latest from Virgo Rising threads soft, earnest vocals through a latticework of indie rock guitars.
go to album
