1. |
a diet of junk food
04:20
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|
The smallest report of a mind going under
Is lost in the fog of a noisier age
He never requested or voted or asked
It's much nobler to shoulder to stand and to break
Driving his dials til 7am
His energy courses down neon-stained roads
Like bleach to the heartstrings, the evenings keep marching so
Wave your goodbyes to the glory malaise
Bored on a rainy British Tuesday morning
Or ripping east on Soviet trains
You had an eye on my diet of junk food
Your name on the tip of my tongue again
He read his reduction in state-sponsored papers
A radio blasting that no-one can hear
He never protested resisted or spoke
It's far simpler to lie there and slide underneath
Drowning in laughter, 11pm
The smell of his boredom hangs thick to his clothes
A loner a martyr, he paces out harder
Sends SOS flashes from under his feet
Scorned and hungover on a Memphis pavement
In greyhound tracks off Rose Kiln Lane
You stole a march on my diet of junk food
And yours is the air where my rips will repair and
A few more arrests I'll be shot
You dived in deserving far more than I've got
My bloodline is weak and it's run to a stop
So pick me up and run
You had an eye on my diet of junk food
Your name on the tip of my tongue again
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2. |
little scandal
03:09
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you dropped to my corner, your hair cracking over your face
there was dirt in your nails, you were melting a crimson smiled
waxed on
sweetheart your eyes gave your age away
they stare through the fire and only see driving rain
scratched on your back screams a message reads 'rescue me'
surrounded by bottles your neck bent straight down to your feet
cheer up
'cuz I'll be the vice that helps you reappear
we deserve nothing worse than the hole we carved out here
so dig with me now
little scandal
stones at the window, an ear pressed against the wall
holding your name in my throat 'til I hear the bolts crawl
across
so slip off the charm that you wear next door
under your gaze, I feel the heat burst through the floor
so let's have this battle and know we lost the war
so humour me now
little scandal
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3. |
necromance
04:14
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Necromance, what heights we had
What peaks through heaven's floor
But we were ghosts so suddenly
Necromance, what style of dance
You shook as you were stone
And those that claimed indifference
Drained both of us
This necromance, a broken lance
A child's chance in hell
An appetite for loneliness
Costs twice as much
So when you run to war
I shall not be near you
I shall not await that knocking door
So run to war, so run to war
Necromance, what sleight of hand
What spells you wouldn't cast
A fire doused so clinical
Necromance, what shape of man
Destroys another's hope
Those that deal in apathy
Claim victory
In necromance, what heights we had
What peaks through heaven's floor
But we were ghosts so suddenly
So violently
So when you run to war
I shall not be near you
I shall not await that knocking door
That missing soul report
So run to war, so run to war
So run to war, so run to war
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ed lofstedt Bristol, UK
Plays folk. Channels post-rock. Dreams post-punk. Eats pop.
"One of the UK's best up and coming
songwriters...a credit to his craft." - All Will Be Well
Ed channels electronica and post-rock through his folk songs, drawing in huge dynamic shifts, spellbinding stagecraft and bewitching lyrics.
Ed's new EP 'sweep me away' is out now!
... more
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