Song of Stings

I know your doorman hates me, I can see it in his smile
He bares his teeth to greet me just like a crocodile
Your father recognized me when we passed in the club
But when I tried to shake his hand he grabbed his hat and gloves

Yeah we must destroy our lives to prove that we're alive
So we dance the song of stings to show the way out of the hive

Under the pianoforte in your parents’ living room
The wooden Indian observed my fingers make you swoon
Your boyfriend introduced us on East End Avenue
His shirts all cost a fortune but he never had a clue

Cause we must destroy our lives to prove that we're alive
So we dance the song of stings to show the way out of the hive

We were so very naughty down on the marble floor
We broke the crystal bottle to watch the honey pour
You wanted so to try it, I let you have your way
You didn’t seem disappointed, I really have to say

Your red shoes were for dancing, for dress-up and pretend
But now the time has come for our conspiracy to end
Your sister’s next door waiting for lesson number three
I doubt that you’ll be seeing too much more of me

Cause we must destroy our lives to prove that we're alive
So we dance the song of stings to show the way out of the hive
Yeah we must destroy our lives to prove that we're alive
So we dance the song of stings to show the way out of the hive

Voice, keyboards: Anton Sword
Bass guitar: Eddie Eyeball
Written & Produced by Anton Sword
Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side
All Songs © 2021 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music. All rights reserved.

Album photo © American Museum of Natural History

Song of Stings / Waiting for You

Song of Stings

Songs Of Stings

Waiting For You

Look, there's the pair of fuzzy dice I gave you
Hanging from the rear view mirror of your car
I swore after the last time I'd forget you
But I'm so embarrassed cause, well, here we are

I staked out your old red brownstone
Yeah I'm back and I'm all alone
Cause I lack the next chapter
I'm waiting for you

Thunder's balling up like a fist in the gut of the afternoon
My plastic sunglasses are practically melting in my hair
A photo of his stupid face is pasted on your dashboard
Do you really think I care

Your fire escape is starting to shine
As the rain weaves a cape so fine
For you
Waiting for you

Chewing on ice cubes staring at a wall of water
It's a constant struggle not to struggle
Not to strangle the moment to make it mine
To not really care if you will come up the steps
If you got my message, if you care
Not to care if you care, not to care if you care
To keep looking at the leaves

To hold fast but not grip too hard
To let go but still play my part
I suppose that's why I don't say
Just what I want to say
I'm waiting for you
Waiting for you
I'm waiting for you
Why am I waiting for you
I'm waiting for you
Why am I waiting for you
Waiting for you
Waiting for you

Voice, keyboards: Anton Sword
Bass guitar: Eddie Eyeball
Written & Produced by Anton Sword
Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side
All Songs © 2021 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music. All Rights Reserved.

Cover photo by Anton Sword, © American Museum of Natural History.

Album photo by Anton Sword. Image © American Museum of Natural History

Waiting for You

Waiting For You

Near

Far off in the stars' the origin of who we are.
The universe, darling, is huge of course,
But in it floats the Earth,
Small and blue with two berths for me and you.

From the China Sea to the Andean peaks,
Everywhere you’re near me.
The atmosphere’s warm skin holds us in,
Shielding our orbiting place from the lonely cold of space.

Light years, vast fears,
But here you are on this sphere, near me.

Deep down in the core, high heat’s making more
Fire and ice. Your eyes,
Paradise, we meet in the street
Wandering through stellar foam,
Always near, anywhere we roam,
Together and alone, near.

Voice, keyboards: Anton Sword
Guitar: Julian Maile
Bass guitar: Eddie Eyeball
Written & Produced by Anton Sword
Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side
All Songs © 2021 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music. All Rights Reserved.

Cover photo by Anton Sword, © American Museum of Natural History.

Near

Near 

Far off in the stars' the origin of who we are.
The universe, darling, is huge of course,
But in it floats the Earth,
Small and blue with two berths for me and you.

From the China Sea to the Andean peaks,
Everywhere you’re near me.
The atmosphere’s warm skin holds us in,
Shielding our orbiting place from the lonely cold of space.

Light years, vast fears,
But here you are on this sphere, near me.

Deep down in the core, high heat’s making more
Fire and ice. Your eyes,
Paradise, we meet in the street
Wandering through stellar foam,
Always near, anywhere we roam,
Together and alone, near.

Voice: Blythe Gruda
Keyboards: Anton Sword
Guitar: Julian Maile
Bass guitar: Eddie Eyeball
Written & Produced by Anton Sword
Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side
 © 2021 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music. All Rights Reserved.

Cover photo by Anton Sword, © American Museum of Natural History.

Near, Siren Version (feat. Blythe Gruda)

Near (Siren Version) feat. Blythe Gruda

Falling Side By Side

Oh that stage is so old, and that rope is frayed, gold and braided
Drama queen let go, come give me your hand and jump, we'll make it
But you barely try, and your glassy eyes show you've been drinking
Still smiling as you cry, hiding that inside you're sinking

We're falling side by side in the back behind the scarlet curtain
Take a bow and wave goodbye, let's throw our script away and play uncertain

As the world weaponized, we strode out from in between the death-lights
When to our surprise the audience vaporized I checked if you were all right

We're falling side by side in the back behind the scarlet curtain
Taking a bow, waving goodbye, throwing our script away to finally play uncertain

Grab the wire that I'm throwing and just tie it to your chest
It's your last chance and I'm towing but you've got to do the rest

We're falling side by side in the back behind the scarlet curtain
Take a bow and wave goodbye, let's throw our script away
We're falling side by side
We're falling side by side

Voice, keyboards: Anton Sword
Guitars: Julian Maile
Bass guitar: Joan Chew
Recorded & Mixed by Anton Sword and Pete Kohl at Beautyrock
Written & Produced by Anton Sword
Mastered by Dan Walker
 © 2022 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music. All Rights Reserved.

Cover photo by Anton Sword, © American Museum of Natural History.

This is a re-recording and a re-arrangement of my 2008 song 'Behind the Scarlet Curtain' -- it's sped up, more energetic, and sung, performed and arranged differently. I prefer this version. I don't usually re-work old tracks, but this one was haunting me, so I gave in.

Falling Side By Side

I'm ready to give up the game
Between the bank books and the rhymes
The cobblestones under my feet stare
A sea of lidless eyes
As I climb the stairs out of the ancient station
Each step takes away one and a half

Folding the spaces away
Between an atom and a draft
Taking a stand at the fair
Separating art from craft
Is there a point from which to worship nothing
Every gift has its chains

Another Friday night and I watch the yellow cabs flying out of the park like germs
I'm going back to the lab to find the antidote to the poison pill swallowed by the bookworms
Well at least that's firm

I'm ready to cash out and drive
To the blank Nebraska plain
Park in a field and stare
At the old sun rise again
Every gift has its chains, do the math
We tried creating a world rearranged, what a laugh

Seeing the structure of time
But my timing's always off
Planning the campaign alone
No relation to the earth
Here is the point from which to worship nothing
You'll never hear me complain
Here is the point where we can worship nothing
Every gift has its chains
Here is the point where we can worship nothing
Every gift has its chains

Voice, keyboards: Anton Sword
Guitars: Julian Maile
Written & Produced by Anton Sword
Mastered by Dan Walker
© 2022 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music. All Rights Reserved.

Cover photo by Anton Sword, © American Museum of Natural History.

To Worship Nothing

I was seized in December '22 by a weird desire to make a holiday track, so I adapted an old tune from J.C. & Anphibius and I made this instrumental, then waited for snow to post it, a snowfall which never came in nyc. It was the longest period without snow in 50 years! Today, Feb. 1 in NYC snow finally arrived, a tiny dusting, so better late than never. Here is a link to the original JC & Anphibius song, if anyone's interested: https://jcandanphibius.bandcamp.com/track/social-spring-cleaning

Winter Cleaning While Muttering to Myself

Wedding Guest (Fled the Wedding):

One spring, you’re invited to the wedding of a lover from your past: someone you’ve lost touch with. Your affair was long ago. As far as you know, you bear each other no malice; you’re mere memories. Your lives and social scenes long since diverged, like loose clumps of mown grass thrown onto the surface of a lawn-lining creek break apart floating downstream. You finger the mailed invitation, musing; yours came with a heartfelt handwritten entreaty, so with some lingering doubt you decide to risk attending. 

At this midlife wedding of this old lover, some newly revealed present reality bumps and blends with memories of your past together. Visions surface in your mind of how it might have gone differently, or why it didn’t and couldn’t. The collision of old and new, of casual hedonism with half-hearted stabs at half-commitment, kicks up memories and judgments, dimly formed, that start to jostle and swirl around you, forming a fog of regret, irritation, nostalgia, yearning and confusion that at last you pierce with a slightly superior point of view, a slit-eyed glance of condescension down at your former paramour. 

Slicing through the veils of this wild carnival of a wedding, you glimpse the life situation your ex-lover is embracing, or passively surrendering to, as a sad farce. Or is it? Should it have been you? Did you make a narrow escape? Where will you both diverge to now? Who is, who was, who will be the happy one? Recalling the old days and ruminating over them repeatedly, you go home drunk, and wondering.

Bass: Eddie Eyeball
Guitar: Julian Maile
Vox/Keys: Anton Sword
Written & Produced by Anton Sword
Mastered by Dan Walker
photograph image © American Museum of Natural History
Music & Lyrics copyright © 2023 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music
All Rights Reserved

Wedding Guest (Fled the Wedding)

One spring, you’re invited to the wedding of a lover from your past, someone you’ve lost touch with. Your affair was long ago. As far as you know, you bear each other no malice; you’re mere memories. Your lives and social scenes long since diverged, like loose clumps of mown grass thrown onto the surface of a lawn-lining creek break apart while floating downstream. You finger the mailed invitation, musing; yours came with a heartfelt handwritten entreaty, so with some lingering doubt you decide to risk attending.

At this midlife wedding of this old lover, some newly revealed present reality bumps and blends with memories of your past together. Visions surface in your mind of how it might have gone differently, or why it didn’t and couldn’t. The collision of old and new, of casual hedonism with half-hearted stabs at half-commitment, kicks up memories and judgments, dimly formed, that start to jostle and swirl around you, forming a fog of regret, irritation, nostalgia, yearning and confusion that at last you pierce with a slightly superior point of view, a slit-eyed glance of condescension down at your former paramour.

Slicing through the veils of this wild carnival of a wedding, you glimpse the life situation your ex-lover is embracing, or passively surrendering to, as a sad farce. Or is it? Should it have been you? Did you make a narrow escape? Where will you both diverge to now? Who is, who was, who will be the happy one? Recalling the old days and ruminating over them repeatedly, you go home drunk, and wondering.

Bass: Eddie Eyeball
Guitar: Julian Maile
Vox/Keys: Anton Sword
Written & Produced by Anton Sword
Mastered by Dan Walker
Music & Lyrics copyright © 2023 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music
All Rights Reserved
photograph image © American Museum of Natural History

Written and Produced by Anton Sword. 

Lyrics:
Maybe it’s the sky, maybe it’s the rain
It all seems different but maybe it’s the same
Maybe it’s the world, conversion of the times
Maybe it’s the language, maybe it’s the rhymes
Maybe it’s the thunder, maybe it’s the sun
Maybe it’s your brain thinking I’m the one
Maybe someone is, I don’t think it’s me
Maybe it’s just you seeing what you see

Maybe it’s the blood, maybe it’s the glands
Written in the bones, acted with the hands
Maybe we’re too old, maybe we’re too new
We’ve been made too fake and maybe it’s too true
Maybe we’re too late, maybe it’s the end
Maybe that’s great, maybe we’re friends
Maybe it’s the dawn, maybe it’s the night
Listen to the wind, maybe it’s all right
Maybe it’s all right

Maybe it’s undone, maybe it’s the start
Of something unknown, and it’s just the first part
Maybe it’s a song that’s being sung
Do you feel a flame? Maybe it’s begun
Maybe it’s begun

Download this song!

Maybe It's Begun

Blythe Sword - Sandwich (live At Cameo)

Back at the shark bar with a Maker’s Mark again
I sit alone with my moleskine and my pen
When by the jukebox I recognize your voice
The way you tell a joke just gets me moist
Your smooth allusions and cool sarcasm
Almost induce a mental orgasm

As usual not only are your clothes a perfect fit
But every tiny detail shows your wit
I’m nearly ready armored in my liquid bronze
To talk to you and hope for a response
Your lips undulate in your pretty face
As you create another brilliant turn of phrase

I like your mind

I listen closely so you take me to your place
On Clinton Street - a cleverly decorated space
Tongue-tied on your bed I have a sudden urge to flee
Cause I’m scared that you’re almost as smart as me
We sit here breathing as I absorb it all
But I think I need some phenobarbital

I like your mind

Written &amp; Produced by Anton Sword
Anton Sword: voice, keyboards
Kristin Mueller: drums
Kristofer Widholm: guitars
Jay Foote: bass

I Like Your Mind

Written and Produced by Anton Sword. Copyright 2012 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music.
Anton Sword: voices, keyboards, programming. Kristin Mueller: drum kit. Julian Maile, Michael Lawson: guitars. Gina Marie Rodriguez: bass. 

Download this song

Here in the Hurricane (album mix)

Written &amp; Produced by Anton Sword. Copyright 2012 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music.
Anton Sword: voices, keyboards, programming. Kristin Mueller: drum kit. Julian Maile: guitars. Gina Marie Rodriguez: bass

Surrender to the Tentacles

Leading to the Ledge  

Our love's a combination lock set in an ancient safe
We work the picks and the cylinders until our fingers chafe
Kneeling there together sweating underneath our masks
We both got so tired of questions we never even asked

Partners in crime, our treasure is unhoardable
What's yours, what's mine? The portions are unsortable
We bit the dust and tried to split the take to escape
All our dynamite wouldn't put the wine back in the grape

Our secret names, they blew away in dead confetti mail
And all our dreams in bottles from the belly of the whale
They spilled out across the flood but could not make a bridge
No, they just rolled out a thin red carpet leading to the ledge

Love is a word with a hole punched in the center
Silence may hurt but it lets the pleasure enter
Still upstairs in the bedroom dresser in the back of the bottom drawer
There is a crumpled paper ball that won't unfold any more

Our secret names, they blew away in dead confetti mail
And all our dreams in bottles from the belly of the whale
They spilled out across the flood but could not make a bridge
No, they just rolled out a thin red carpet leading to the ledge
Leading to the ledge, leading to the ledge

Guitars: Michael Lawson 
Bass Guitar: Gina Marie Rodriguez
Keyboards, Programming, Voice: Anton Sword

mixed by Anton Sword, Ingo Krauss (Candy Bomber, Berlin), Ethan Donaldson
Written & Produced by Anton Sword
Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side

Copyright © 2020 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music. All Rights Reserved.
www.antonsword.com

Leading to the Ledge

NYC native Anton Sword leads a an alt-pop project with a shifting band lineup.  One of his ambient compositions scores the 'Astro Bulletin,' on permanent display in the Rose Space Center lobby, in the American Museum of Natural History.

Anton Sword

Pinned to spotlight

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