1. |
Intro/XXVII
01:58
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"The soul is born...first in those moments I told you of. It has a slow and dark birth, more mysterious than the birth of the body. When the soul of a man is born in this country there are nets flung at it to hold it back from flight. You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets."
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2. |
Arrhythmia
00:40
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I'm not breathing.
Heartbeats for teething.
Death, your best friend,
He's not sleeping.
Born to death,
Without ceasing.
Check my pulse, kid.
I'm not breathing.
Heartbeats for teething.
Death, your best friend,
He's not sleeping.
Born to death,
Without ceasing.
Check my pulse, kid.
I'm not breathing.
Heartbeats for teething.
Death, your best friend,
He's not sleeping.
Born to death,
Without ceasing.
I'm not breathing.
I'm not breathing.
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3. |
Charcoal Lungs
00:46
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I stripped my skin down to carcinogens, steadfast.
The sliver in sip that turns breathing lungs to ash.
I sighed out the carbon that covered my eyes,
laying me down with nothing but insides.
Inside my insides I plunged deeper by dawn,
I held no path, no tract to what had gone.
Wasting skin by the mile, hands in heart, hands entombed.
Walking skin by the minute,
I lost myself on the way through.
I tried to call on you,
I just lost myself on the way through.
Where were you?
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4. |
Glasstear
01:25
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These tears made of glass are worthless in conjunction to finger-less function, touch between us which I long to feel for once. Lying to the flower that bloomed anew, dividing minds connect to mute. Worlds too vast to exist, commonplace. Deadlocked as a broken chest; letting the rain fall to the wayside, devouring foul-conceived interest. Before, I saw a face. Pressed, indented, maimed - blurring was all but detected from this breath. So I give my last regards to the shallowness. I hate myself for having not confessed; blue silken immortal eyes, I apologize. I apologize.
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5. |
Nailbreaker
00:56
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I write love letters, as smiles slit throats.
Blood on the handle, ink on the nose.
Vision lies to you on print,
while words can't carry the weight of your splint.
You say:
I'll sow our demise with flowered hands.
So I say:
Just maybe you'll understand,
when I'm a younger man.
Maybe you'll understand,
when I'm a younger man.
My legs are amiss, but I'll stand.
I'll stand with...
"these fucking hands."
I will withstand.
"You shall not pass."
I will withstand.
"You shall not pass."
I will withstand.
"You shall not pass."
I'll make you understand,
when I'm a better man.
My hands are shaking,
but for now I'll take my stand.
And words can carry you.
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6. |
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An illness is locked depth in youth,
that cause the pockets of light to fade so quickly from view.
In all we know nothing,
not what we do.
I took heartbreak and I used it as paint,
I painted a portrait for living,
blurring lines that couldn't connect.
I can't connect what it is that I have left.
I can't control the lead of my death.
I couldn't keep the lead from my head.
Hands shaking, I ran ahead.
My body still, my eyes walked outside.
I learned and I realized,
that outlines fade from time to time.
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7. |
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I held your scent with my eyes,
Like stretching arms, tenderly light.
Like the gnashing space, pitch black.
I strained but never could look back.
And with the clock I hungered.
And with the desert I wondered.
To consume is to end,
To never begin is to begin.
All we ever were,
was candles in the wind.
And I have faded.
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8. |
Imprinted
00:43
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I'm not thin. I'm not thin.
My face is submerged in every facet,
of the faults of your skin.
My fingertips burned in,
they grazed stolen air in time,
as silhouettes dawned,
fading on a line.
But sutures gathered what I thought,
confronted me as if it was my fault.
It was my fault.
As if it was my fault.
My fault that I let it in,
through the door I felt the floor,
cascading through my palms.
And as my waist grabbed my face,
I plummeted.
I plummeted.
And I held your sun.
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Grievance recommends:
connecticut punks the fuck out
go to album
Whenever, If Ever
by The World is a Beautiful Place & I am No Longer Afraid to Die
connecticut post-rock/twinkles the fuck out
go to album
connecticut sad jazzes the fuck out
go to albumIf you like Grievance, you may also like:
Terrific, marauding post-punk that will thrill fans of Idles with its pairing of cutting riffs and wry spoken/sung lyrics.
go to album
Ataraxy
by Sadness / To Be Gentle
Atmospheric black metal band Sadness and experimental screamo band To Be Gentle channel intense emotions on this split single.
go to album
Toronto band Respire deliver a post-hardcore tour de force on the largest scale possible, orchestrally rich and incessantly uncompromising.
go to album
