Garden of Infinite Love and Muck

Our first demo as a full band!

Book us! lauraandthestorm@gmail.com

Banjolele / lyrics - Laura Cerny
Keys - Jack Hopkins
Guitar - Sam Milz
Bass / sound tech - Sean Heffernan 
Acoustic guitar / backup vocals - Sara Steele
Percussion - Joey Oh

Laura and the Storm live demo

Say it you know I need the validation
Say it even though nothing will change it
Please say it, you know I need the validation
Please say it, even though nothing will change it

Tell me you can hear me, feed me, stand beside me
Tell me you can hear me, tell me you can hear me

Say it, you know I need the validation
Please say it, even though nothing will change it
Please say it, you know I need the validation
Please say it, even though nothing will change it
You know I need the validation

Validation

Cmaj7 Am Cadd9
Woke up on the wrong side of the moon
Woke up in a darker sort of mood
Fell asleep beneath the green lights
Fell asleep before the best part of a summer night

Em7 Fmaj7
I really don’t know what to do
That I haven’t already tried
C Em
C You asked me to sing about the Dm moon
Cmaj And I would like to sing it Dm right for you
Cmaj7 I built a ship to break through G space
Cadd9 I landed lonely here to Gmaj7 take it all in

Em7 Fmaj7
Now you’re a thousand miles away
And I’m stuck singing on the moon

You asked me to sing about the moon

Plankton Demo

Laura and the Storm demo

Lycanthropy Demo

Flower Adult Demo

Jack Hopkins on keys

Lyrics:
Sitting in an empty room
I left my windows open
I watch the racoons
I see their eyes in the night

I’ve been seeing time flow through the sand
Leave only footprints
Flush only toilet paper
employees must wash their hands

The racoons are rootin round my mind
They are rootin for you
The racoons are rootin thru my mind
They are rootin for you

Ill wash you clean in the river
Ill wash you clean in the sea
Youll understand what i mean
eventually

The racoons are rootin through my mind
They are rooting for you
The racoons are rootin round my mind
They are rootin for you

Sitting in an empty room
I left my windows open
I left the trash for tomorrow 

The racoons are rootin through my mind
They are rootin for you

Racoons

I am best friends with the ants in my apartment
Consider this a love letter to them
Here I am for my last
California summer,
 it's a bummer man, they'll never ever call

But I'm gonna get a tattoo, I'm gonna get a dog
I'm gonna get a great view, move to philadelphia
and I'm gonna fall in love as many times as I can
I'm gonna do what I want, I'm gonna get a band

And I'm gonna have my bad days
I'm gonna have my bad days, scrape my knees,
It's gonna rain

I am best friends with the ants in my apartment, consider this a breakup song

Ants In My Apt

The blackberries, blackberries, blackberries stain my teeth
And the mosquitos won’t leave me alone
Out on the balcony

Now we’re burning up, burning up up in the summer heat
Summer please, summer please don’t slip away from me

This is the shortest summer for the rest of our lives
So pour another drink go heavy on the ice
Before we’re burning up, burning up up in the winter heat
Before the glaciers melt, slip slip into the sea

Blackberries

Wake me up with citrus,
Say something delicious
Coffee and tea,
Tell me what I mean to ya
Bath me in yuzu
Just like you used to
When we needed to get clean
Ignore thorns of bergamot,
Pretend like you have forgotten all my flaws
Forget the truth of gravity,
Pretend like you don’t believe any laws

Kiss me like winter citrus
Sweet when i need it 
Gone with the frost
Harvest lost in the storm

Wake me up with citrus, say something delicious
Coffee and tea, tell me what I mean to ya
Bath me in yuzu, just like you used to
When we needed to get clean.
Ignore thorns of bergamot, pretend like you have forgotten all my flaws
Forget the truth of gravity, pretend like you don’t believe
In falling

Kiss me like winter citrus
Sweet when i need it 
Gone with the frost
Harvest lost in the storm

Kiss me like winter citrus
Sweet when i need it 
Gone with the frost
Harvest lost in the storm

Bergamot

Bicycle baskets of broken down bouquets, 
ethylene dreams don’t endure very long 
Summertime snowflakes and cigarette stains
Celibate rabbits wait for springtime to come
Cold feet run poolside on hot white cement 
gravel and soil finding solace in soles
All of our manners and all of our regrets 
Don’t make the means to buy tickets back home 

Wait for me, I don’t have any time left
I can’t see a thing, other than the colors in your breath
Bite your lip, hold back your sidewise smile
I can’t be trusted this time

Wasting our time mapping day constellations
I’ll collect stories while they collect rust
Come with me we’ll have rooftop conversations, And I’ll pretend
to myself I don’t like you that much
Glass bowls of berries rearranged nice and neatly
All of your carrots are growing in rows.
Balance what you reap with the ripeness that’s fleeting 
Don’t count the crops that you’ve learned to let go

Wait for me, I don’t have any time left
I can’t see a thing, other than the colors in your breath
Bite your lip, hold back your sidewise smile
I can’t be trusted this time

Wait for me, I don’t have any time left
I can’t see a thing, other than your colored breath Bite your lip, hold
back your sidewise smile
I can’t be trusted this time

Ethylene Dreams

Make me a house, to keep yourself warm, 
I’ll make it easier, than the weights you have borne
Bring me more rings, and watch as I age
Strip away my skin, carve in me your name.
I’ll always forgive the way you make me bleed.
Extract my oxygen, chop me up, sap up the sweet

Turning,
Everything’s turning around
Turning,
Everything’s turning around
Burning.
Everything’s burning
I won’t let them burn every bough

Breathe unto me 
Let CO2 swirl through my leaves
I’ll be the sunshine, if you bring the rain 
Let nitrogen soak through my hideaway veins 
Let chlorophyll crumble me into yellows from greens 
I want to be lost out on a flammable sea

Turning,
Everything’s turning around
Turning,
Everything’s turning around
Burning. I am done burning down
I am done burning 
I am done being your giving tree now.

The Giving Tree

Venus Flytrap

Won't you pretend with me?
Won't you pretend with me?
That this world
This world won't come crashing, crumbling down
That this world won't come crashing, crumbling down

Keep on planting your seeds
Keep on getting through your week
Keep on planting your seeds
Keep on getting through your week

Pack it in, pack it out
Don't leave any microplastics behind on the ground
Pack it in, pack it out
Don't leave any of your regrets back behind you now

Won't you pretend with me?
Won't you pretend with me?
That this world
This world won't come crashing, crumbling down
That this world won't come crashing, crumbling down

Keep on planting your seeds
Keep on getting through your week
Keep on planting your seeds
Keep on getting through your week

Won't you pretend with me?
That this world
This world won't come crashing, crumbling down

Seed Song

The atmosphere is falling all around me
Wanting (to be) air inside my lungs
Breathing in toxicity
Of all that we’ll never get to be
Wet earth sitting underneath my toes
Squishing, squelching,
I suppose
Some things we’re never meant to know

Lines through concrete cracks
And all the grass is overgrowing
So lie down on it

Suspended in haze,
I am waiting.
Fading into another time
When I open my eyes, what will I see?
Just more nature committing acts of defiance.

Lines through concrete cracks
And all the grass is overgrowing
So lie down on it

Poison for the pests
And all the guests
Who plucked too much fruit despite the warnings
Can go drown on it
So lie down on it

Pesticide Sunrise

The winter cracked open, and the summer began,
We held the new crop in the palms of our hands
We climbed every mountain, fished every stream, 
saw the wiliest clouds, that I’ve ever seen

And we ran 
Toward the sun 
We ran
like children run

We broke that old compass your father gave to you 
So he screamed at you ruddy faced, like fathers do
They caught us on the field, under the stars one night 
You said
you’d rather leave here, than put up a fight
So we ran, we ran back in time
and we ran, you said “please be mine”
So we went to the front, the beginning of things
Before time was invented, before toasters and queens 
And we went to the place,
where all places were born
I looked at your face, 
and I could’ve sworn
We were there we were there the final first chapter
we were there
no changing seasons mattered
Before there was such thing, as the “right thing to be” You could
be what you wanted, a rhyme or a flea
All of my atoms buzzed next to yours
I truly wondered, “who could ever want more?"
But you ran away
and you ran
I begged you to stay

Changing Seasons

I’ve drained my final chloroplasts 
The sunshine never seems to last
Overwatered, drowning in impatience
I find myself distracted
by some other somebody’s sunset. 
Oh my flower child
Oh my flower child
If I don’t even know my arch enemy, then who am I?
If I don’t even know my arch enemies name 
It’s all the same.
Oh my flower child
Oh my flower child
My my my!
My lovely, laying sprawled on the carpet overgrown by
the roots from your garden 
Swallow your seeds, take your daily dose of dirt!
Jump out of bed
grab your shoes and your utility belt stocked with
bubbles and butterfly nets away into the real world
Catch some bugs, catch some rays from the sun
Catch that song on the tips of our tongues 
Forget we’re finding love, love, love in the time of trump

I don’t even know my arch enemy’s name I don’t
really think they feel the same as me though 
they have different reasons
for pulling us apart apart apart apart apart
apart apart apart apart
You know I'm just a flower adult 
Pretending that I am still young 
Peaceful, naive, I believe everyone is somehow
still worthy of love.
You know I'm just a flower adult 
Pretending that I am still young 
Peaceful, naive, I believe everyone is somehow
still worthy of love.
You know I'm just a flower adult 
Pretending that I am still young 
Peaceful, naive, I believe everyone is somehow
still worthy of love.
You know I'm just a flower adult 
Pretending that I am still young 
Peaceful, naive, I believe everyone is somehow
still worthy of love.

Flower Adult

Happy Little Buzzy Bees
Nobody Else around
I might as well do as much nothing 
Here or some other town
Seeking clouds for shade
It’s all a whole lotta effort doesn’t matter anyway
So I’ll soak up the most of california summer strawberries
And happy little buzzy bees, nobody else around

Happy Buzzy Bees

Hey diddle aye
Oh diddle oh
Hey diddle aye
Oh diddle oh oh
Can you tell?
That I’m messed up
Can you tell?
That I’m messed up
Can you tell?
Can you tell me if the sun is up?
Or has it messed up as well
Cause it’s dark inside my room
Maybe the sun’s decided to sleep in too
Hey diddle aye
Oh diddle oh oh oh
Hey diddle aye aye oh oh whoah
Oh oh oh, oh oh oh whoah ho

Hey diddle ayyy
Oh diddle oh oh oh
Hey diddle ayyy
Oh diddle oh oh oh

Can we go deeper
Into the garden?
The sun shifts through the canopy
All dappled light and soft gold leaves
But you’ll still find me on the fence

Can we go deeper
Into the garden
Can we go deeper
Into the garden

Deeper into the Garden

I watch you work your fingers to the bone
Removing rocks and mold you make sure there is space for growth
Be careful what you say, wishing on me
You will blow me away, like dandelions in the breeze
I suck the sunshine right out of the room
Instead of projecting it back to you

So what is it
The reason you want it so badly
So what is it
The reason you love me so madly
You chew through me
Like spitting sunflower seeds
I chew through you too
We hope soon, every one of them blooms

Be careful what you sow
Planting arms around me
The more you dig, you know
There’s darker dirt beneath
Be careful what you say, wishing for me.
I will blow you away, like dandelions in the breeze

So what is it
The reason you want it so badly
So what is it
The reason you love me so madly

You chew through me
Like spitting sunflower seeds
I chew through you too
We hope soon, every one of them blooms
I chew through you too
We hope soon, every one of them blooms

Sunflower Seeds

I feel bound to new sounds, a battleground of guitar strings 
Creation's exhausting and I’m sick of wanting my mark over everything 

We had another place, another time, another mind to pick at 
We played hop scotch on rooftops, monday-morning setbacks. 

I died, a rich man, no plans, always waiting for it 
cold coffee, climax or xanax, finding all these new ways to forget 

Find your center, allow the censors, sometimes it’s better not to say anything. 
Bookends, or ink pens, or false friends of old dogs or diamond rings. 

I’m having trouble now with finding what to say, 
ink and watercolors tend to bleed right through the page. 
I’m getting too good at coming up with filler lines 
Sometimes I’d rather just be the silent type. 

Out of tune, out of time, and out of sync, there are chinks in my armor 
Burning fuel, breaking rules, I keep taking it farther 

Another chance, last glance at new plans, a final hour 
Was it worth, the caused hurt? You left dirt where there should have been flowers. 

Beat, bruised, raw and bloody, bandaid words when you say that 
you love me. 
Radio static & silence are scary, I knew I just had to say something. 
Empty memories, hangover envy, lost nights keep getting me in trouble. 
I guess I’m a mess, bruised knees and a bag of sore muscles. 

I’m having trouble now with finding what to say 
ink and watercolors tend to bleed right through the page 
I’m getting too good at coming up with filler lines 
Sometimes I’d rather just be the silent type 

Haven’t you waited long enough? Aren’t you sick of looking up?

I’m having trouble now with finding what to say 
ink and watercolors tend to bleed right through the page 
I’m getting too good at coming up with filler lines 
Sometimes I’d rather just be The Silent Type.

No Apologies

The Silent Type

Interlude (pineapple)

There's no rival to unprecedented pretension.
If you listen to Beiber, I'll throw you an intervention.
Did I mention my extensive record collection?
My tastes are a bit above your comprehension.

I'm so underground though, I'm so fly, oh,
Even all of my cassettes are on vinyl.
Urban outfitters for the clothes that I buy, a sophisticated homeless look I want to imply.
Spotify is an integral part of my survival. 
Oh my god, did you really just pronounce it Bon Iver..?

I only listen to Dream Punk, Trip Hop, Avant Garde Chamber Grunge Instrumental Lounge Pop. 
I'm promoting this fire mixtape I'm about to drop, and you'll be blown away in all the culture that I've got.
I'm condescending, snobby and bitter.
But trust me, I'm not a hipster. 

There's really no difference between The Smiths and Morissey.
I knew about Bach before he sold out went mainstream.
And I prefer patterns in unconventional rhyme schemes. 
When lyrics are literal, it really just bores me. 

Hold my latte as I rant about the bourgeois, the words "craft beer" are pretty much my mating call. 
Or take me to that concert in Portland or Montreal. 
Anyway, here's Wonderwall. 
(Today is gonna be the day that they bring it on back to you)
Just kidding, cause

I only listen to Dream Punk, Trip Hop, Avant Garde Chamber Grunge Instrumental Lounge Pop. 
I'm promoting this fire mixtape I'm about to drop, and you'll be blown away in all the culture that I've got.
I'm condescending, snobby and bitter.
But trust me, I'm not a hipster. 

Je ne ecoute du rap fancais,
Fleet foxes, Bright Eyes, Flying Lotus and Homeshake.
My favorite band plays mostly Twee Folk Disco. 
I saw them last week at the chapel up in 'Frisco.
I hover backstage and watch shows in shitty bars
I drink kombucha out of a homeblown mason jar. 

Hey, have you heard that EP that's just been revamped, 
You can go and download it for free off of bandcamp.
Ego's overflowing, my beard's full of glitter.
But trust me, I'm not a hipster.

If you say you like Kanye, we're gonna have drama. 
I wanna wipe T-swift out of Americana.
I'm sick of The Pixies, Arctic Monkeys, Nirvana.
You'll be impressed when you hear my favorite genre!

It's Acoustic Hardcore Electronic Blues Garage Rock, Psychedelic Hawaiian Shoegaze Folk Hip Hop, Industrial Korean Lo-fi Post Prog Rock, obtuse rubber goose, green moose guava juice, giant snake, birthday cake, large fries, chocolate shake, WAIT
All these arbitrary words make my head ache!
Music is not something that I can take, 
It's up to interpretation; it's whatever you make!
The world's more delicious with all these different tastes, 
And honestly, I love it that way. 
It brings us together, something for everybody,
Whether you're listening to Japanther or that dreaded Top 40, 
There's really no need to act so high and mighty, 
When it comes down to it, we're all music junkies.
 
But,
I only listen to Dream Punk, Trip Hop, Avant Garde Chamber Grunge Instrumental Lounge Pop. 
I'm promoting this fire mixtape I'm about to drop, and you'll be blown away in all the culture that I got.
I'm condescending, snobby and bitter.
But trust me, I'm not a hipster. 
I'm not a hipster
I'm not a hipster

Dirty Hipsters

Trust Me, I'm Not A Hipster

California sun is shining, just another shitty day.
There are clouds on my horizon, things aren't going the right way. 
I'm analyzing and rewinding every little thing we said.
Your face flashes behind my eyelids, I can't get you outta my head. 
Out of my

Wet nightmares, coming up and running from behind, 
You left me bleeding out and hanging up to dry,
We nightmares, coming up and running from behind
You left me bleeding out and hanging up to dry.
Convince myself that I'll somehow be fine.
We've got everything but time.

There isn't much that you can give me, 
I'll take whatever I can get.
Now I'm unraveling, I'm unwinding, I just need a second chance
Out of this

Wet nightmare, coming up and running from behind, 
You left me bleeding out and hanging up to dry,
Wet nightmares, coming up and running from behind
You left me bleeding out and hanging up to dry.
Convince myself that I'll somehow be fine.
We've got everything but time.

I've fucked, I've fucked up everything, and now I need you to forgive me.
I need a second chance that I'll somehow end up ruining, 
and you will leave me in the morning. 
And that'll be the end.

Wet Nightmares

Flowerpunk banjolele music for gnome raves

Contact/Booking: lauraandthestorm@gmail.com

Laura and the Storm

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