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lyrics
Frail as the first day we met, recalling all our attempts to cheat death.
Young and vibrant or slow decay? Remind me another day. Telling every
pig to fuck off, because we knew every one was corrupt. This isn't fair.
I am losing my touch. Years weigh tons in my back pack. I can't stop shaking,
this is how I breathe for now.
Nothing to depend on. Wasted on my own, nothing feels like home.
Taking my time, I decay.
I used to make my life decisions, bet them all on every kickflip. Now I'm selling my guitar to live.
These are the sounds a deaf bird might make. Fucking vodka wears us all thin. Fuck the three hours.
I cannot lie...
No one to depend on. Wasted on my own, nothing feels like home.
Taking my time, I decay.
Everyone cycles. You waste your words. Stay gone.
I can't help feeling this way for the rest of my waking life, or through every new body, every new soul.
supported by 17 fans who also own “Sounds A Deaf Bird Might Make”
Quite possibly the most full-on album I've ever listened to. Intense, and then some. 'Digital Tarpit' could describe both the track and the whole album: high-pitched guitar squeals that make your fillings itch coupled with merciless, suffocating heaviness. The Avenell-esque vocals top it off perfectly.
Brilliant - punishing, but brilliant. jim_fuego
Montreal psych-pop veterans sound as infectious and hypnotic as ever on their seventh LP, slinging jangly riffs and bright vocal harmonies. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 14, 2024