1. |
Conversation Politics
05:07
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What he said was sad but made sense. What he said was mad. Manufactured innocence. Intelligently messing about with the nouns and pretenses. What he finds is nothing. What she said was sad but you know the rest. The time it takes to figure it all out, nothing left. Conversation between the spaces unheard. The silence fills the spaces. Time is taking what’s left, the silence is taking over. “One more word against this thing and I’ll shut it down”. Maybe this time he was right. Taken in turn one more time gone away lost the words. In the silence everything told. Why can’t they figure it out? They’re going to have to figure it out. What he said, the thing that finally worked was… nothing.
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2. |
Menchu
04:16
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What I’ve seen through bright blue eyes I wouldn’t wish on anyone. These fields of green once in my mind now turn red. These green green hills of blurred memories I’ve seen in dreams of dying now upon these places people’s faces I’ve known and loved. I organize the fighters, I organize the funerals. I am forced to love the fighters and I organize the cause. I wish to float above my fields, to feel the maize upon my tongue. To dream the flight I’ve dreamed without red without the dread. I realize I need a green soft wind and grass, trees, and my brothers with me again. We were all happy dancing in nature then shying away. I come now to face the people I want to love. I cannot see them die again. Coming to an end and I find myself understanding little more than before. What’s left to imagination and the swift salt of the sea. I crave the salt to fill the air with my lungs. Vacuum, sucking, gasping, sea wall crushed to pebbles, shredded and disheveled. No one would care if in a crowded crumble it gave way, but I would. Necessarily, I am no one. It takes two dimensional portrait to embellish my character. I know this and I feel this, but somehow the dream that another place could change that. I wish I knew what they felt. Like placed in a wall to keep lives safe. To know the secret pleasure of being kissed to death by salt water. To give way like all of the temporal creation. Cool, hard, cool waves, rock hard cool coursing. Cyclic comedic overcome, this will eventually destroy you. It is not possible to hold water. What I’ve seen through bright blue eyes I wouldn’t wish on anyone. These fields of green once in my mind now turn red. These green hills of blurred memories. These green hills of dead bodies. These green hills wait for me . I am coming, I am coming. I am.
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3. |
Cry, Cape Canaveral, Cry
05:55
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T minus, 20 to launch. Test, test, test. Flight in progress. T minus 19. Check jet fumes exhausting my breath. I see waves covering sand. Waves crash, waves wave. I walk along the wrong shore. Time to fold, floating waits. I see the rocks covering waves. Time and I sit, my hands on the wheel, the rudder straight. Launch code given ignition. Check, everything check. Six or seven times a day I choke down your threats leaving me wasted, floating, alone. Scared at times this way I place my , bets leaving me floating away alone. Set a course straight for the rocks. Why do you want to hold me in imagined gravity? I’m gone away, abused and discarded. Cry all you want, I’m never coming back, just simply driven away. What goes up shattered. Tracing star paths compass course corrected. Shove off, weigh anchor. I see the sand covered by waves. I’ve seen the water, waves washed. You’ll miss me when the final rudder locked the wheel tied in place. I head the course straight for the rock. Gone away, abused, discarded. Cry all you want, I’m never coming back. This ship leaves, and I’m never coming back.
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4. |
Addiction Soliloquy
06:15
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Wasted, weak, and wanting weight, crushing weight darkness follows as I try to leave waiting, watching, worrying, who cares? And I’ll never learn anything more than the things I’ve learned today. Watching you all just slip away for nothing. White sun never comes again. One shot never comes again. Who cares? White sun covers all. Everything shadows.
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5. |
Icosahedron
03:40
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Strands seemingly weaving a time tattered pattern. As if it would matter. I tear at it, torn to pieces, patches, and squares. Not covering places that attract the most stares. I can’t find you anywhere. What is this mind? Silence kept our fears in place, so I sorted them into shapes. I forgot how many sides I have. The familiarity of this figure frightens me, it fits the one I had forgotten. I held back independent of the things that changed me. To cut it out now takes time and a place I’d gladly left behind as if it would matter. I tear at it.
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6. |
Song Seven
03:50
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What’s my line? I forgot my line. What’s the next line? I lose time, we built these lives. Pressing and watered down, and I return to take all of the first things offered. Second none associated now, and they’re not all bad. But not all things are worth the time. It’s a situation you got to like. Waited so long to be the one doing all the time. Where’s your drive? Reach out, I’m reaching out to break the passing down, to give away the secret. Better ways to show how we feel about it. And learning how to learn. Take time with every small thing, there is a lesson here. It’s learning how to think, it’s a process of becoming, a process of becoming. Now let’s sink in, one more doubt. Will it fit against our will? You keep your own lines. What now? They just keep running. A found source running just in history, not a tradition, a source. They got caught with it at that precious moment. No thought of your own. Wanted the need to express, cultivated about distrust. A beautiful black line. I preach now to sacrifice the doubt, to give away the secret. Better ways to show how we feel about it. I’m learning how to write. Save time, save time. And I need someway, way to listen.
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Expert Work Records Columbia, Missouri
A record label from Columbia, MO. est 2016.
Lost, forgotten, posthumous releases
on vinyl, tape, cd, and digital.
We have a sub-label called American Handstand Records who we often co-release things with.
... more
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it's so good. worth the wait.
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Long time coming for a vinyl issue. I'm surprised it took the band this long for some vinyl release of this. This really deserve the vinyl press as a reissue. I'm really happy so see New Victoria Theater. It had seemed to be a song that wasn't on the original CD press by Crank! A record company
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Beautiful package, heavy stock. It's obvious Council loves what they do. If you like Broken Hearts Are Blue, get this. The purplish vinyl is gorgeous and heavyweight.
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