1. |
Past night,
01:51
|
|
||
2. |
I dreamt heard thoughts.
04:01
|
|
||
3. |
Distilled into drops,
02:58
|
|
||
4. |
|
|||
Back biting senses step into frame.
Madness condenses, defining insane.
Crossing blades in disdain,
a pair of dueling pawns.
Senseless discord, prolonged.
Stale devices, answers unclear.
Filtered affection, reflections appear.
Taking aim, scared refrain
through ink spots over brawn.
Delicate shapes, slow drawn.
|
||||
5. |
pure tones remain.
04:21
|
|
||
Cower, detach connecting matter.
Routed strands are dry at hand, will shatter.
Chasm, access the concrete cocoon,
to bury face is commonplace set too soon.
Self allude and soak in waves.
Bask in gloom in a blackened cave,
and peer through blinds at other lives,
light disturbs the bats inside these walls.
Sullen sores that dampen frets.
Static pours through re-amped sweat,
as mold grows black as hungry crows,
diving to decomposing limbs.
Reeling woes,
cold machines
taping these pure tones.
|
||||
6. |
Dissolved in earshot,
02:33
|
|
||
7. |
aural fibers ignite.
02:23
|
|
||
8. |
Inviting sounds clot.
04:44
|
|
||
We're loosing what's left of our failing wings.
We're saving our breathe as we sink.
The digital rain killed the dying spring
and with sensible silence she speaks.
"All your words
everything is tongue in cheek.
There's inviting sounds hiding between your teeth.
Past bleeding gums
that hide the soft and week whispers in the dark"
The ambient samples are beckoning
the soft pedaled sequence of sleep.
Dancing around these computed dreams,
she lets out a binary scream.
|
||||
9. |
Echoes paint the brain.
04:14
|
|
||
Tried to be thick skinned,
but I was pissing in the wind
with my feeble clout within.
I'm stubborn with a taste for sin.
When the youthful days begin
to dwindle down from thick to thin.
I get nervous on a whim,
masked behind a shaking grin,
With my stumbling feet on faulted ground,
stranded and kicked down to the curb.
Echoes slipped between
the soothing strokes of dopamine
that slow the shutter speed
and fade to smoke for ash to meet my
Stumbling feet on faulted ground,
stranded and kicked down to the curb.
|
||||
10. |
Patterns calmly stop,
06:44
|
|
||
Three day weekend mind set
hiding wounds that time left open.
Silent sting.
"Won't they bury me in ivory?"
Blanket us in irony
sketch my face and all I see
are glossy wells where my eyes should be.
Haunted lucid dreaming.
Faintly screaming,
"Someone bury this right next to me
wake us when there's more to see"
Clocks shake hands to no relief.
Fingers laced beneath the screen.
Crippled city bird,
feathers left unstirred.
Crippled city bird,
measures left unheard.
These clever ghosts
they bleed the host
who takes the most
of this coated bliss.
The nervousness still exists
although calm I feel to some degree
closing off the world from me.
Looking for a chance to be
something less than what I see.
When these patterns only I can see,
slow their rate and cease to be,
solace has no guarantee
when thinking without space to breath.
Now my heart is pulsing rapidly.
dying leaves are wrapping me in silence
now I'll finally be the last fish in this dying sea.
|
||||
11. |
|
|||
Wake with the seeds,
shaking in the spectral breeze.
Hours unseen,
pale as the winter leaves.
Laced in debris is a portrait of phantom appeal.
Entangled in eye-splice a waltz on the edge of surreal.
"We should never leave this place,
we should stay right here and be by ourselves.
Lost in this unconscious space,
time will slowly take our pace where we were.
Darkness has a somber grace,
generations lost, effaced thoughts inside.
Knots untied can not erase,
steps attempting to retrace every move."
|
||||
12. |
held tight.
04:39
|
|
||
Not again, this old thing...
failing eyes try to blink.
Not this time, just send me back in,
and let me remember her as she was.
Not the place we once were,
blameless face made to blur,
lost with time, and what was her name?
A part of me's still with her.
As it was.
Held as tight as I can
clenching each grain of sand
now she's gone.
Just send her back in.
Because I can't remember her,
how she was.
Twisting into morning tide.
chasing nonsense, narrow eyed,
There she is, I found her again.
Now I remember her,
as she was.
Im dying,
trying to stride behind tired mind coats,
of fading colors.
|
Mind Coats Denver, Colorado
2 muzik team
ANGEL STREET
---Out Now---
Streaming and Download help
If you like Mind Coats, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp