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Enough with the god damn teeth already, now. You made your point; your bark ain't as big as it. Hit a bump and you punch another hole in you. Bleeding out from your lip; I guess this pup couldn't handle it.
And it's the faith we don't get out of it gonna call the daylight down. Is that sugar on your skin, or is it brine for cooking out? Fellate your expectations; see your discharge looking blue. Are you the only one who hasn't heard the news?
We floated toward the ocean but we never met with it. We slept on the ground; it's just a thousand king size beds. And if you pay attention you will receive no reward. You don't play the game to win; you play to play it more.
Enough with the god damn flack already, now. Keep swinging that battle axe, you'll only hurt yourself. Can't seem to forget you're only good for pornography. Along came a con; you said you wouldn't fall for it.
And it's the love we don't get out of it gonna call the daylight out. Do you recall the sound the moon made crashing down? And you told me to settle down. And I forgot my manners anyhow.
You had me walking on stilts like a body full of ketamine. You could touch me again but I'm gonna need some cetirizine. And if you catch me coming down, I think it's best you leave. The coroner ruled self-infliction; you don't even have to flee the scene.
We floated toward the ocean but we never met with it. We slept on the ground; it's just a thousand king size beds. And if you pay attention you will receive no reward. You don't play the game to win; you play to play it more.
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2. |
Lines (live 10/4/15)
04:09
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The kids are in the kitchen. Their numbers are growing. They're doing lines with one-dollar bills. Facetious as always: no one here was early. Cold call to see who gives a fuck.
If only your only mistake was sticking around. If only every bed wasn't a hole in the ground.
I can't believe you; you say you're sorry with a grin cut from ear to ear. A badge of courage, apocalypse now won't even keep you here.
Still spitting out glass. The car is on its side. Double-vision in the median. You cause and effect it. It's all in your head, darling: The inevitable heat death of the universe.
If only your only mistake was sticking around. If only every bed wasn't a hole in the ground.
I can't believe you; you say you're sorry with a grin cut from ear to ear. A badge of courage, apocalypse now won't even keep you here.
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3. |
Static (live 10/4/15)
05:46
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Five AM find me. I'm so tired of TV. Gather the cast again into which plaster pours reluctantly. You puny human; you pray for sympathy, my god. Slip nails into my skin. You're gonna tear yourself apart.
We live in a palatial, buzzing, static house. We change the channel but no other sound comes out. You take the east wing, I'll take the couch. I'll be the change I wanna see: I'll douse it all in gasoline.
Cartilage fly me. Bend my legs and dot my eyes. Forget your markets to corner. Fuck rock and roll and fuck your deposit. You rotting human; your fear of entropy confused with malignant ambition; your stars and stripes revisited.
You're so small. You'll serve yourself up raw.
We live in a palatial, buzzing, static house. We change the channel but no other sound comes out. You take the east wing, I'll take the couch. I'll be the change I wanna see: I'll douse it all in gasoline.
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4. |
My Party (live 10/4/15)
04:34
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While you can run for cover, you still can't disappear. You paint your face, you shave your head, your eyes still bulge in fear. You turn your back, you break the bottle, put your hands up, you're seeing double. I can't communicate with someone who can't be insane. With you my breath won't evaporate. You ain't seen me at my worst but fucking close. Ain't caught a soul yet who can break the hold. I came to your recital, scrutinized every note. I called it like I saw it but it all came out in shitty prose. You played me like a fiddle; I swore to god I was getting close. You called me the best of all time; I called you the final throes. Footnote on the shape of my turtle shell: Fault lines suit me so well.
No you can't come to my party; crashed your car, can't even start it. Declare are you sorry now? Black light shows your face is drenched in previous malice intended. Do you believe me now?
Accelerate; you know you can. Hungry for days; I hear you. Bend back your knees; just take this hit and move on out into the waves. You're killing it. We're topside but we can't see shit. The sound of thunder sounds like a broken speaker in a broken cabinet. But don't listen to me. The promoter says it's fresh and new, iconic, authentic and fucking bold. We like breathing, screaming slow and shallow. And you know the kids won't respond unless you break it, unless you mean to. It's trendy static. It's hard to dance to. It's straight eccentric. It really hits home. It's fantasy. It's x and o.
No you can't come to my party; crashed my car can't even start it. Declare are you sorry now. Black light shows my face is drenched in layers of shit and hours wasted. Do you believe me now?
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5. |
Captain (live 10/4/15)
06:29
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I sincerely apologize for getting you wrapped up in this shit. My sentimental head doesn't really make any sense anymore. This is a requiem for something real. Those noises in the dark just get louder every single night. And oh my skull seems to emanate a most irregular glow. This is a requiem for something real.
And oh, captain, the ship is bound to break. And oh, captain, we'll set off anyway.
Violent proposals pile up on my desk. Sealed with eighteen stitches; they must be heaven sent. Or is one of the a postcard? Long hairs on my sweater; weave them all into the fabric. Set that shit on fire while I'm still wearing it. This is a requiem for something real.
And oh, captain, the ship is bound to break. And oh, captain, we'll set off anyway.
I know who you are and I know what you came for. You're a pain in the ass when you cup your hands and ask for more. I know who you are and I know what you came for. My stomach is paper. My brain is a flamethrower.
Ending on a low note never had so much style. Whod've thought it'd take twenty years to write home? Just say I'm still your favorite. Four-thirty in the morning; ain't done this shit since we were kids. Just start the fucking car and hope the best for it.
And oh, captain, the ship is bound to break. And oh, captain, we'll set off anyway.
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Gandor Chorale Brooklyn, New York
A big hug of rustic electropunk for your sleepless canine soul. We're a Brooklyn three-piece via Maine and Queens playing
really loud pop music. Check out our Patreon at www.patreon.com/GandorChorale
or our Youtube channel for music videos: www.youtube.com/channel/UCLmvlNmeZAupz_Hypmt_qMg?view_as=public
And our facebook for shows:
www.facebook.com/gandorchorale
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