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  • I can now safely put my vote on this band being the best music act in the history of mankind.
  • free d/l of the two LPs here: http://ghosts.wantstogiveyou.com/#
  • if anyone was looking for the List songs, they are all on David's bandcamp page: http://listless1.bandcamp.com/album/list-side-of-the-split-lp-with-perfect-future (check out his other stuff, too; the List songs all were based on his solo work)
  • Put the lyrics on songmeanings as well, thanks Alan! http://songmeanings.com/artist/view/songs/137438975356/
  • Heavy Hand Look at the sun as long as you can. Look at the houses here from where you stand. Are the lights on? Are they waking to the sound of the breaking that you won’t sing? The closest thing I have is in the palm of your heavy hand. Not everyone will move when they hear the sound of that gun. If there’s something that is weighted, you can’t carry, (you don’t need to) carry alone.
  • Author’s Name I’m reaching down, reaching out, trying to find your hand. Will guide me? Can you help me to understand? Starting from the first page, looking for the lie’s name. The uttered sounds a thousand mouths fracture an author’s name. I won’t reach down or reach shit out. I’m not trying to find your hand if there’s something you’re hiding for the seizure of our dissonance.
  • Simple Math They said the numbers were at equal. They set the tone; I felt divided. The calculations were a sure thing; I didn’t buy it. I took the line; I took the time, tried to spread it out. I couldn’t find a single sign that felt the same. Your ten is my two, and in the contrast, where are you? What’s your name? I checked your figures. I reassessed and reassigned in order to try and find how you got your numbers. They didn’t match; I guess the test was the only thing that’s blind. The scales were weighted; tilt it left, tilt it right until it suits your needs. How you got your numbers.. Doctor results to fit the goal, a tempered guarantee. I vacate these educations, safely saving the divisions away from the scales you’re swinging. And the decision’s the autoclave; it’s creating pressure releasing me, unsure.
  • Weathered Days They said a chance of snow; how much did you ever really know? You said it’s cold out here; the sky was bright and clear. I said I can’t rely on the things the news might tell me. You said look outside; can you even see the stars from here? You said if we stay this way we will never know the time to move. Even though it’s cold outside, I’d rather take the chance to leave. You said you can’t deny that the air is crisp and frozen. I think it’s a better way for our world to breathe. Now you’re turning around farther from me. In the ways that we tried, in the ways that we lied, was a way that we tried, was the way that we died. All the things that read are the things you can’t see. The things that I read, a new history. All I see from here is how we once were closer to me.
  • ...cont'd: To shake all evidence in a pocket’s one red cent devotional by sense with pockets baring threads, I needed a marksman to thread my needles through and through if I’m to run this down and sew it up, tearing, torn, unused. The fires magnified in certain light (magnified in light). Living underneath an ill lit sky (but thriving without light). And the fires magnify with time. It’s getting late to change a mind. It turned to a cculture of discouragement. Like coins, let’s spend the youth, or get them used to spending hard attention to the truth. “O, the ramparts we watch,” yeah, just blacking out on start. Did you realize the weapon is inside the walls of your heart?
  • Blocking Out the Stars All the time he spent waiting for the end; the end never came. It was like an endless song. And it took some time before he realized that their lives were run by the steel and wire of powerlines. The electricity which moves so easily, when it’s gone the solar system will just carry on. And though people keep in touch, their bodies go untouched. They’re well preserved for a future of transmissions from above. Perfectly in sync, ten billion hearts would start. He waited for the end, but the end became a start. All he had was this moment in his hands, a poison dart to shoot his magnificent plans right into the sky, and they come tumbling down into the powerlines he held right in his hands.

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