1. |
Culprit
05:42
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The culprit’s control pit is cold as he steps foot inside it.
He’s panning for gold now, just like he was taught how,
Assured that we won’t know.
The tokens he’s holding gleam, glisten and glow,
But he knows that they’re worthless.
He spent all his faith on bad dreams.
What haunts him implores him to run from the cauldron
Or suffer the echoes.
The culprit’s control pit is cold as he puts it behind him.
“So long”, he says to his following as he boards his row boat.
Now he’s damn certain all that’s left behind are photos
Of his blank white face coloured in.
The culprit now holds mirror shards, all which seem to belie him.
A man once with goodly, unstaggered rapport
Now undone to his own bone.
He trembles alone with an ego so blown,
Tumbledown yet remorseless.
“So long,” he stammers and longs for air, forlorn on his row boat.
Now his mad eyes are duly set upon the unknown,
Which grows larger with bated breath.
“So long,” he said to his following as the shore kept the cold.
Now they’re damn certain all the best will come tomorrow,
As his blank white face settles in.
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2. |
Shiver
03:18
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Heart of embers, spangled showers of glass spikes,
Sapped the warmest water from the din and washed the dead away.
I had a tickle burn on my tongue,
I had a tremor that said
“Shy from the flame that came from thine disarray”.
I bet your heart won’t beat as fast as ghosts move through my frame.
A field of sparse, delirious cuts,
Abridged films: they play, they play.
They all speak while I shiver,
I’m just trying to breathe.
Frayed by shrieks, tried by shivers,
I’m just trying to breathe.
But I’m not breathing at all.
A creepy-crawly, crawling creep - it found itself upon the wall!
Transfixed, I’m broken puppetry,
Just waiting to be controlled.
I bet the spice that sears my tongue won’t let me shut my eyes.
The fear of past, precarious parts of my life
Is framed in neon lights.
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3. |
Faded
04:27
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A preacher of men falls, and he falls so…
Stripped of silver and wine,
Reduced to a masthead, he’s wasted,
The culprit made strong by his own hands,
Left to wash them clean.
The mountains he built now lie broken to hold the tide,
He’s faded, his thoughts moored to swollen pride.
The rivers he caught swell and break over mired land,
He’s faded, a name to portray a man.
The mountains he built now lie broken to hold the tide,
He’s faded, a shoreline that bears his stride.
The rivers he caught swell and break over mired land,
He’s faded, a name to portray a man.
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4. |
Portrait
04:51
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There’s a portrait in the way, and it shakes all my thoughts so hard they fall into my dreams.
Grey stalks grow large in here, but do not grow into trees.
They talk so much in here, but will not talk of those fears
That plagued his tall tales until he wore his own tail too thin.
See him peak but do not heed the crimes.
The oblique tongue stiff and finally tied.
The seeds that shan’t be sowed are only swept away.
The deeds he had done first didn’t dampen disarray.
See him peak but do not heed the crimes.
Hear him speak but do not heed the lies.
Meet with shrieks and fits of rambling eyes.
The oblique tongue stiff and finally tied.
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Elk + Mammoth Melbourne, Australia
Migrating between art-rock and moody pop, Elk + Mammoth are an up and coming four-piece outfit from the eastern suburbs of Melbourne. Drawing inspiration from the likes of Radiohead, Foals and Fleet Foxes, their tracks are lyrically cryptic with dynamic driving beats, sounding somewhat like Morrissey if he delivered singing telegrams. ... more
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