1. |
Modern Ghosts
03:52
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Wrap around my mind,
Your grip so cold.
Squeeze the matter out,
This blood runs gold.
Colouring water streams of information
Down which we are sold.
All of these impressions that I can’t see,
Digital paws are all over me.
Playing host to modern ghosts,
Imprints on the breeze.
All these connections I barely feel,
Digital claws have a hold on me.
Numbly limp in the buzzard's grip,
Ascending gracefully.
Gaze upon my eyes,
Your torch-like stare.
Drain the colour out
A sight scorched barely
Seen through visions blurred
Reflect in blackened mirrors.
Golden threads in history we leave.
When did we all become a currency?
All of these impressions that I can’t see,
Digital paws are all over me.
Playing host to modern ghosts,
Imprints on the breeze.
All these connections I barely feel,
Digital claws have a hold on me.
Numbly limp in the buzzard's grip,
Ascending gracefully.
Buried in history,
Mummified in circuitry…
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2. |
Graduate Scheme
03:49
|
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Out of reach,
Almost everything,
You believe I could be.
Out of touch,
From monotony’s crutch
Stumbling through, What a pleasant view…
I’m building my life on the sand,
No glory to be found in a band
But the air and the water is free.
Turn it in,
When your outside’s dim,
Turn it well from within
Keep me off,
That monotonous crutch
Limping through,
What a pleasant view…
I’m building my life on the sand,
No glory to be found in a band
But the air and the water is free
No choice in the matter at hand
Now would you ever ask the sand,
To stand and withstand the sea?
Stand the sea, stand and see
The eye of noon reflects in me
I don’t believe that I will ever leave this graduate scheme
It seems alright to me…
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3. |
Glenties
03:13
|
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Plough-lines of water,
By dead-eyed farmers, turned,
Bead of sweat I am sweated off
Furrows on God's brow
These moments stuck in time
Like insects in amber underground
This is an exercise
Landscapes we travel through
A movement from side to side
There is no split divide.
And the dawn, yeah it rained on me
In the rain, then it dawned on me...
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4. |
|
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Television dreams of human beings
Full-of-static minds, full of empty scenes
Red, blue, green is all it sees
Kaleidoscopic heart longs to beat
And it's turning me
Turning so perfectly
And it's burning me
You pull the plug from under me
What are these corroding memories?
What can I think that hasn't been thought?
What can I seek that hasn't been sought?
Television dreams of fornicating
Lots of little deaths and silent screams
Rise and fall, the running theme
Copper-wire lungs long to breathe.
And it's turning me
Turning so perfectly
And it's burning me
You pull the plug from under me
What are these corroding memories?
What can I think that hasn't been thought?
What can I seek that hasn't been sought?
To feel something when it’s not there,
All that is solid melts into the thin air…
You pull the plug from under me
What are these corroding memories?
What can I think that hasn't been thought?
What can I seek that hasn't been sought?
You pull the plug from under me
What are these corroding memories?
What can I think that hasn't been thought?
What can I seek that hasn't been sought?
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5. |
||||
Little chick you never left the nest,
You just rebuilt with copper-wire.
Panasonic youth…
When did the youth, we become so dull?
People pickled in information.
A jar out in the dark, sucked of its lustre.
Little chick you never left the nest,
You just rebuilt with copper-wire.
In the dark it almost looks the same,
But I can feel your shame.
Panasonic youth in a PC World.
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