1. |
New Campaigns
03:59
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Break for me
I need something to fix
A little cubby house built with branches, leaves and twigs
Fall for me
And I will help kick you down
I need someone who needs me to help them off the ground
Burn for me
Yes I will help start the fire
I want something that mars a little bit like desire
Show for me everything that you’ve got
And I’ll see everything I don’t need that I want
Elementary phases of the catastrophe
Pittering pattering feet and fluttering hearts
I will not see your faults
Dizzy with cartoon stars
My white sheets your little black bra
Crawl around in a circle on my bed
Lay very still and play dead
That’ll do just fine
It’ll do just fine
It’ll be just fine
Speak for me
Use your voice like a scar
I want promises running like track-marks down my arms
Bend for me
Change your shape like Plasticine
You’re an animal, you’re a mineral, you’re a creature and you’re the sea
Hunt for me
Search for traces of gold
Find the dregs of the dirt from past campaigns I’ve sold
Find the dregs of the dirt from past campaigns I’ve sold
Take the dregs of the dirt from past campaigns I’ve sold
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2. |
Profile & Status
03:07
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You with the big heart and the small mouth and the even smaller waist
Eat like a small bird with its beak shut; put the chef’s efforts to waste
Dream with the hollow of a morrow that could maybe fill your bones
Drink like a fish, sink like a disc tied to a lead-laced bag of stones
Down at the average there’s a carriage full of mediocre eyes
Watchful and eager, they’re trading for a meaningful disguise
You’ve got the money, got the sugar, got the honey in your tea
Wait ‘till its cold sip at the old dregs
Get the bitter taste for free
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3. |
Mirror Mirror
02:16
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Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?
I’ll bribe you for the prize
My currency it knows no shame
And I can pay time and time again
Possess me with your eyes
‘Cause you’ve got the dreams to keep me awake
And you make the rules upon which my bond breaks
A tinted reflection; the grapes of your vine
To make conversation I drink your wine
Mr. Reaper where’s your grin?
When you smile it keeps me thin
My sin it is my sin
Chasing youth and catching colds
Little creases turn into folds
My skin it is my skin
And there on the water, next to the fire
My nemesis spins and critiques my desires
Melting the icecap but sinking the boat
The weight of my want won’t let me float
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4. |
By The Hour
02:40
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Left your ambition at a thousand parties
Talked it right up and through the ceiling
Still hold impressions of some kind of darling
Still have impressions of some feelings
And one day you’ll be fifty
But you, you don’t believe in calendars or time
Talk to the mirror until it says you’re pretty
Pretty high
I’ve got a million ways to make you crazy
But I forget them by the hour
Out in the clubs the kids are picking daisies
Trading their petals for the powder
And one day we’ll be sixty
But us we don’t believe in aging of the mind
Just crawl around like babies
Looking for the sky
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5. |
Black Economy
05:57
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Well you don’t believe in the afterlife
Take all your little shiny eggs in a basket out to the city on a Friday night
Drink all your pay-cheque accordingly
Stare at the fuzzy lights adoringly
Talk about your idiosyncrasies
Reference yourself to university
Give all the best things a bad rap
Drape your insecurities in glad-rags
Shop at an overpriced emporium
Marinade your insides with chloroform
And its an apt economy we share
Trading all of my impossible wishes
For your every single care
You can sew me with your neat little stitches
I still think its pretty rare
That we’re both throwing our punches like we mean it
After every single year in the dark
Right here in the dark
Well you don’t believe in the afterlife
Take all your little shiny eggs in a basket out to the city on a Sunday night
Snort all your pay-cheque accordingly
Gape at the fuzzy lights adoringly
Talk about your sorrows with apathy
Reference yourself to a catastrophe
Give all the best things a bad rap
Colour in your fear with a Nihilist black
Shop in a shadowy restroom
Bless yourself, bow your head and dress your wounds
Yes it’s a black economy we share
Trading all of my impossible wishes
For your every single care
Go on, sew me with your neat little stitches
I still think its pretty rare
That we’re both throwing our punches like we mean it
After every single year in the dark
Right here in the dark
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