1. |
a diet of junk food
04:07
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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. |
harbours
04:14
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You were wrong to think the romance had flown
From the ages that shifted our dustbowl home
This hold was decades in its setting our bones
It was mundane surrender, it was coal to each coat
At once our harbours sigh
Held in time inside that traveller's eye
And if there's a hand you should hold it's mine
Long flickers the candle that climbs in a rising tide
Cobwebs and cages mark the trail to mistakes
These peculiar attractions that fit and fall away
Unique in your refusal to break
With the weather we reap when we reawake
How we fall through life
Sail home and climb that old harbourside
And if there's a hand you should hold it's mine
So quicken the pulse of this rusted remain of my heart
Like notes sent out to sea, pounding in the deep
A light from silent centuries returns from sleep
A shuddered slip of years, don't scream another word
Snuffed out as our eyes unfolded
Our anchors outlived every heart absconded
A whispered remain where our feet once fell
At once our harbours sigh
Held in time inside that traveller's eye
And if there's a hand you should hold it's mine
A shoreline restored to its ancient grace
Our lungs push, your face remains the same
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3. |
the wheel
05:40
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You slept as she dragged down the wheel last night
Woke in embers of a warmed through life
She never looked up or looked inside
Dysmorphia in velvet slides, who am I?
She's monoxide now, crystal slow dives into her
Base as this drone, brass plate snow
You drove where you had to go
He lifted his hands from the wheel last night
Blasted charcoal through suburban white
He never crawled up or felt inside
December and the neighbours sigh
You slept as she dragged down the wheel last night
Woke in embers of a warmed through life
She never looked up or looked inside
Dysmorphia in velvet slides, why am I?
She's telluric now, grey abasement buried her
Deep as this goes, front yard soak
You drove where you had to go
She's monoxide now, crystal slow dives into her
Base as this drone, brass plate snow
You drove where you had to go
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4. |
pueblito
01:49
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Go to sleep, find me in a dream
Sweep me away where shores are warmer
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5. |
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They threw us into orbit but they'll have to drag us back
Cuz we've been turning into peacocks, brushing up our wildcat acts
And throwing all our weakness into sacks then in the water
Then we're bored right through
And recently we're finding that our parents' lives and ours
Were really more or less identical
All be it drawing different scars
Our history is all that we are
We're sipping our sweat from the sewers
We buzz like flies at the roadside, and I
I am blissful and whiskey tonight
Candlelit and quiet
Sailed away on the dark Asian sea
And emptied out my mind
The matador is leading but unless he leaves he'll always lose
So if you think I'm quitting well I'm winning cuz I got to choose
I'll follow the arrow until it drops
Secure in the knowledge that when my heart stops
I'll be more grateful for the devils I know
Than jealous of the angels I don't
Sail with me on the dark Asian sea
Empty out your mind
We're more landfill the longer we live
But time is on our side
I feel like the offcuts of divine experiments gone wrong
But bring me the darkness and I'll show you where the light belongs
Let the dreamers fly higher than their high-rise homes
And polish the concrete up into chrome
Cuz all of their anger is yours to spray
In whichever direction you choose to face
It's all the eccentric excitement of youth
But never let go of the truth
You'll be more grateful for the devils you know
Than jealous of the angels you're sick that you don't
You claim that they'll love you, you know that they won't
They'll chuck you adrift and leave you there to float
So float on the dark Asian sea
I am blissful and whiskey tonight
So lay down your arms, take the hands of St. Peter
A glance to the ground with a breath that propels you upwards
Cut all your ties to crooked casanovas
Forget all their language, you could never understand it
Jettison all the bones that you've broken
They're calling you in so run when you hear my voice
You hear my voice
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6. |
oxford blue
04:59
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I'm propped against the wall outside the petrol forecourt
Trying to spark that flint in the dark
Catching odd veiled remarks
Laughing about the lives that I've blown apart
My shoes are smoking ruins in the fireplace
They were soaked when I fell to the floor
Yelling you're a gilded whore and other judgements I'll deplore
When I'm revived and sore on morning march
I only seem to walk along diagonal lines
Since I suggested we give it a rest
Cider and cigarettes
Afford me some empowerment and self respect
The girl behind the bar is wafting your perfume so
I think I will compose you a late night note
Cuz if I tell you that I miss you enough times to launch a rescue
There'll be romance, there'll be proof that dreams can come true
These mornings hit much harder than
the night time now you're gone
Our friends will close ranks and haze us out
With their drunken mess hall songs, da da-da da da
If bedroom walls could talk they'd only couch in screams
At the decisions and the creatures we court
Spring in each stride to the door
And by the time we're home we've fallen back to nought
Thinking I don't know what's going wrong but my alarms are pounding
So I'll frown and stick the TV on and sink another beer
These mornings hit much harder than
The night time now you're gone
Our friends will close ranks and haze us out
Pay off the judge who would send us down yeah
These mornings hit much harder than
The night time now you're gone
So I'll pull my neck from the lion's mouth
And get clean again, da da-da da da
You promised to take me however I'd come
You promised to build me a name
We never injected the world with ourselves
We never put needle to vein
Now something has woken my base rate soul
Something upended and wrong
Swapping pictures for pitchers and poems for drugs
And your sweetness for this bitter beyond
Singing bye, bye, I hope you catch fire and die
In a gutter right where you belong
Yeah the history books where you belong, da da-da da da
I'm back against the wall outside the petrol forecourt
Trying to spark that flint in the dark
At least I made a start
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7. |
necromance
04:05
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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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