It's A Big World, Fat Bird

Recorded October 24th-27th, 2013
remish,polvoish? drunk vocal

Count and bless, listless, helpless
choke on copper while their greenbacks
lift
my eyes
to bells
crashing down 
to hell

gravity holds fragile hand still  
gravity will feed upon the leaves
and trees
from great height
crashing down
a life

and I grasp the cliff that greets us
blood arranged in a message
eyes
your eyes
are bells
crashing down 
to hell

no use for chasing reasons
no use for shallow grieving
still
sit still
wake up
crashing down
until...

Reason

Recorded January 27th-28th, 2014
B! O! C! kind of

the faltered means, gift left and shot
it's what you're not
a letter burned versus letter used
but it's not truth
a story cut in two

half-dozen stakes in a dying man
let him stand
ignite the spark, let'em lick the flame
unhindered pain
we'll watch the fire grow
we'll watch the fire grow
celebrate his body's glow


Glow

Recorded August 17th-20th, 2014
no master, white strat capo 3, jazz bass, key of Gm

this clockwork keeps on tickin
despite efforts of the trite
but I don't want, don't need it
meals of foam and rice

is it really that easy 
to pick up and discard
what is hurt, what is wrong, 
and what's gone too far?

and I'll ask you a simple question
please answer with the truth
was it time, or was it sleep that grabbed a hold of you?

and the best can only be attained through
the worst of lies that it can feed to you
just a life it is here and then it's gone
these stumbled speeches, they inspire few

is it a crime to relinquish
the innate power to resist
where've you gone? where you been?
the burning match may have killed him
but laying down was never a sin
where've you gone? where you been?

this clock work never lies,
it's just a mean older kid
I don't want it, I don't need it
meal of salt and tin

why don't you just shove off and we could lift away
what is hurt, what is wrong 
and what is left to say 

it hurts much too much to lay down

this clockwork never lies
despite efforts of the trite
this clockwork keeps on tickin
and I'm along for the ride



Clockwork

Recorded November 7th-8th, 2014

tomorrow's sun brings light and means to depart
and reach beyond the cautious grasp 
of a wise man's humble heart   

many lives ago, I glimpsed the demon's toungue
hold her back man hold her back from the blood 
floating on the water

if you insist on sailing east into the blackened sea
where good intentions are rended by Leviathan's teeth
splintered men cast down by the toll of gravity

its comin on strong

if all advice I've gifted you was thrown away
at least promise the ones you leave 
that you abandon them today 
 

Leviathan

recorded march-april, 2015

held belief on a string and weaved the thread
architecture holds opposition's word in check
count the moons: 
seventeen

the fires fail to cease

when the kill is wrought 
bring the head to bruise the heart

lurching, creaking, loss of balance upon the sea
contradiction means nothing at all to me
breaking bread
with enemies

fires fail to cease

when the kill is wrought
bring the head to bruise the heart

Wall

Recorded June 2nd-9th, 2015

every word in a bookend position as disclosure comes to a crawl
environment insists to scream, pariah pariah, then executioner's axe falls
righteousness without a reason
righteousness without a reason

carving a warpath

never quite a walking Eve, but she will plead a study in loss
this is what she comes here for, camera camera, shoot til the veil is dissolved
self-infliction will leave them wanting
self-infliction will leave them wanting

carving a warpath

it took a ton to lift a heart, but only a prick to cast it down
set the table while music plays, this is love this is love, as the ruptured veins bleed out
take the time to tally the losses
take the time to tally the losses

carving a warpath


Warpath

hilariously botched mix
recorded 6/21-6/26, 2015


Rootkit

Weep v2 Demo

recorded April 2nd, 2012
bit of a battles rip

Crouton

Recorded January 11th, 2013

tomorrow doesn't seem so bright, the martial sight
as they pin down his arms
aw man what did you do?
a needle prick against the bricks, build shallow grief
if you got no reason not to
I tell ya, there's no use

so graciously
drink in rundown bars
leaving matches on the bed
waiting for a mark
to follow to his death

he sputters bile but takes time to insist
if it's fucking you then it's fucking him
as if it were the same
and right before being immobilized, he leans over and meets your eyes
I tell ya 
I tell ya, there's no use

it wasn't long before the policeman got him 
and it wasn't long for him to tell someone else
someone else to get his shoes

Shoes

Recorded February 14th-15th, 2013
Mix is distorted again, especially from the interlude on. And I managed to throw out my voice recording harmonies. 

grayed out sky pleads for symmetry
and a fire to warm the bones
if you cut'em down with razor blades
lay'em flat upon the road

silence strewn among the leaves
silence weighs upon the phone
leave the rest for the crows
undeniably 
truthfully
finally
without a home

shots rang out across the fields today
punctuated by the moon
not quite dead but in a crippled state
and the blood seeps on through

I promised them a proper burial
eighteen graves to decorate
but the sky wasn't so merciful
and the earth was washed away

undeniably
truthfully
finally
desperately


Crows

Recorded May 20th-27th, 2013
Ark 2.0, featuring cooziebass

I saw him to the north last night, under the moon's light to lend
he favored his left leg with his shirt doused in blood and gin
superstition never sat upon my shoulders, but I'll tell you this
he did not walk, he did not breathe, he disappeared into the mist

I tried to call but my breath was lost as he kneeld down next to me
He said, "I'll lift you to the stars but I will never set you free"
the foundation shook as the veil slid off I was but only a man 
movement halts with a throttled pulse, my dead doll to rend

No one else here will follow you,
no benevolent angel shall comfort you 
as providence seems to wilt into the ground beneath our feet
at most it is a tragedy
but at least it's painful honesty
and beset, with no means of reprieve
by the troubles of our souls

Pulse

Recorded June 18th-25th, 2013
for the birds

It's A Big World, Fat Bird

BMorton