Coming Up Roses (demo)

There’s a lady on the corner, she’s selling roses
How much a stem? I’ve got some tens, I’m buying all of them
What were my plans? Well never mind, yeah let’s go planting 
On sidewalk tree beds, on your mother’s grave, I know she loved them 

On the train over the bridge, the sun has never shined so bright 
I’ll write so many pages about you, you’re endless to describe 
You take my hand and even the trees glow with holiday lights 
Everything’s been coming up roses since you came into my life

Last winter you were working at the record store
Box office shift, selling tickets at the door
Remember how we used to stay up drinking until dawn? 
Spend our quarters on playing jukebox songs
Singing “Strangers” or “Head On”

I wanna just go back then to when the streets were white with snow
But now the bars are closed and there is nowhere left to go
And last I heard about you, you were seeing someone new 
And I never got to tell you that I was in love with you 

Written by Kira Skye
Produced by Kira Skye and Andy Waldron

Coming Up Roses (demo)

Nervous-Hibernate for the Weekend

Dan Arnes (vocals, guitar)
Julian Fader (bass, vibraphone)
Carlos Hernandez (drums)
Nate Terepka (piano, synth)

"Fluff" by Fluff

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More

The End Of The World

On lmtd ed clear square 7": www.therestalk.bandcamp.com

https://open.spotify.com/album/02Zr7frLPOBU3JmUprxdzj?si=Ik2feJAeQrKAMA4VTSxKfg

Recorded by Ian Pellicci at New, Improved Recording
Additional recording by There’s Talk 
Mixed by Beau Sorenson 
Mastered by TW Walsh 
Photograph by Paul Hoi

bathed water moon

Give It Up

Music by Frankie Blue
Vocals and lyrics by Natalie Shea

Keep Me Waiting

Pasture Kills

A bizarre turn of event 
That puts me on my survivor mode 
So fickle
Riddled with holes
Uncut this copper nickel
Iffy but riddled with words
Absurd
On the left
Pasture kill the building
From the steeple to the founding ton
Pretty baby crumbles and blows away
It’s a song that no one ever sings for long
So pretty baby stumble
Like your papa was a broken stone
And everybody is gone
You’re just sitting alone
Forgetting what you was gonna say
Aye
It’s a song that no one ever sings for long
This bizarre turn of event
Letting this poison tainted air settle 
I see this wind sink in
A stench so overwhelming one whiff 
Totters to the tilt 
Strips all zicam systems
My playpen cramped listing
Damp this light offer of stay bent
And fuck off you’re spent
Whistling for rent
My lamp stack carefully considered camp 
Takes the sheen off
And while this dream just reeks aged and raged 
Like shredded chance for battered beyonds
Buck fifty and change 
It just dances and dances for eons
I’m back, man
I shuffled back to the end to lean on
It’s last call survivor mode 
So fickle
It’s riddled with holes
Uncut copper plated nickel 
Iffy but riddled with words
It’s absurd
Keep it in your pocket
With those flaming glowing swords 
To slice through this thickest ten inch plank 
Of roughly structured boards 
I watch this horde run up and gather towards 
It sticks to something
It sticks to something, but I can’t wait here I’m sure
And more likely than not I'm gonna side 
With the slightly always open door
And mistake identity in trouble
I see these grids clearly 
I’m sure

Produced by Bull Thieves
Recorded at Ojet Studios — Brooklyn, NY
Mixed by Kirk Yano
Mastered by Marco Saenz

Lance Scott Walker — vocals, drums, bass, guitars, keyboards, programming
Birdlikebats — vocals (1)
Brittany Anjou — keyboards, vocals (1)

www.bullthieves.com

Nervous-Hibernate for the Weekend

nervousband

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