released September 21, 2012

LYRICS:
TRACK LISTING:

SIDE A
home
jan palach
reclamation

SIDE B
unbecoming
salad days

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HOME
dusty roads and dead ends
graves and grudges
run over and thin,
paint peeled back and worn
keepsakes unkempt
hand me downs all

the past built over, disowned
everything's gone

stories and tales
torn and frayed
houses and homes already gone
glories, yellow and fade
etched into stones
upturned... and lost

crossed off and rewritten
names they all forgot
prices we pay for
for leaving. for staying,
memories wasting space,
the long way home

the ties that bind us
the ground we walk upon
buried years and feet beneath
our share of mortality


___________________________________

JAN PALACH
a war on reason
fanatics and secrets
and the beds they make
but not a straight face
in this place thinks you're safe


a fight to save whats left
to hold, to take something back

wealth and distance
and all it may afford
cant occupy the future
or the minds of those
who must bear your weight
there will be something afoot and fucked
as long as you stand
and you'll take rocks to the head

a fight to save whats left
to hold, to take something back
to take something back

where means meet end
where making something
means an end
to take something back
means something at the end of the day
when we quiet the beasts you lead
and you lose the streets
we take back our lives
our means

"In August 1968, the Soviet Union invaded Czechoslovakia to crush the liberalising reforms of
Alexander Dubček's government during what was known as the Prague Spring.
A group of Czech students including Jan Palach made a suicide pact
intending to sacrifice themselves in protest of the invasion.
Prague-born Palach was the first to set himself on fire, in Wenceslas Square,
on 16 January 1969."

___________________________________


RECLAMATION

as like leaves
we are thrown afield
and like birds in a row
we are tossed to the ground
whispers and sighs from those all around....
as dust is lifted afoot
we fill greater rolls of the rank and file

like the unwashed, callow youth, of simpler times
we straddle heart, and naivete
artless and frail, and looking too close
born outcast and pariah

if wolves are to sheep
what beast is to prey
we've become both

the huddled masses locked away
we clutch hope, weak kneed
clueless and shaken, turned inside out
out of touch outclassed.

huddled masses locked away
we clutch hope weak kneed

clueless and shaken, turned inside out
out of touch. outclassed.
if wolves are to sheep
what beast is to prey
we've become both.
huddled masses locked away
we clutch hope weak kneed
if wolves are to sheep
what beast is to prey
we've become both.

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UNBECOMING
my empty stare speaks of endless nights
(that) drag another day into another day
hit another and lie awake
waiting for comfort, respite

flights of fancy and escape
dull and lull and wish away
cheap distractions, cute and clever
cant dismiss the toils
of ungraceful age...

an impatient look
a glare at days
before and to come
piled on top
of weeks and years.
the calendar baits.
cant dismiss the trials
of ungraceful age...

and contempt one could taste
a spiteful drag, towards a face
towards a place and all those
things in the way.
hate on top of hate.

endless venom, disdain
the violence; endless.
i cant breathe , i cant see
and i'll die this way



_________________________________________


SALAD DAYS
we dance, to funeral songs
rename the games we play
make careless useless claims
we deny past mistakes
and tell tall tales.
strengthen lies. deepen holes

.in which we hide

as our way out grows close
copping out is how we cope

we raise glasses high
bear witness to misdeed,
praise failure in spades
we train ourselves to think
we're always ready
got it all worked out
we know nothing and less
indifference.
halfway there.

(and) already dead

as our way out grows close
copping out is how we cope

and so it goes. and so it ends.
lifetimes spent waiting,
wasted. already dead.



(we're so lazy. drunk on money, drink and who gives a shit)
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