1. |
Wildfire
03:04
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2. |
Voyeur
04:05
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In the dead of night
Between read and right
We keep calling for strangers to come out at night
If terrified
By the sign of times
We need all of the strangers to come out at night
Oh please decide
Your guiding light
We’re desperate for strangers to come out at night
I’m tired of hearing these wake-up calls
Tell me wonderful
Is this a midnite brawl
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3. |
Untitled Dancers
04:07
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With my head against the wall
Denying everything that I recall
Leave some extra space for your hate
As my lies begin to disintegrate
Paint a picture all is well
In my world there’s no parallel
Here it all comes pouring down
The future chills down my lack of spine
In the playground we’re acting fine
all emotions are invisible, they hide
Leave no extra space for your love
Just another thing I’m devoid of
Paint a picture all is well
In my world there’s no parallel
Paint a picture all is well
In my world there’s no parallel
Here it all comes pouring down
The future chills down my lack of spine
And I’m king without a crown
Building brittle castles made of sand
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4. |
Utopia, 1974
04:00
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On time we were always counting to be
Yeah on time slowly letting the grip
Throw it to the side of the picket line
Waiting for a cause
Throw it in the air embracing despair
Leaving for a different cause
Aware we were always thinking we were
Only in prayers do we even come close
Choke on our words as we spit them out
Blessed by a higher call
Dumb becomes more numb when we believe
We’re blessed by a higher call
In the winter we sell our souls
In the winter we run
God knows we fail again
God knows we fail again
What is this silence that sprung from a different time
Are we fighting giants or running in defiance
There’s blood on the floor
Who’s up for more
Painting it by numbers
Come carry on
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5. |
Vanities
03:14
|
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We level the plane in silence
Spitting and dividing
We put people in the gutter
Denying them bread and butter
And it’s serious
But who can u blame
and it’s all in my name
We might guns for hire
But our minds are growing tired
And if there’s one thing to admire
We kill off all the brightest
We take pleasure in our actions
No need for dull retractions
We dance upon their loss and
Nailing bodies to crosses
And it’s serious
But who can u blame
And it’s all in my name
We might guns for hire
But our minds are growing tired
And if there’s one thing to admire
We kill off all the brightest
This is the truest act of kindness
We hand out knives to the people with blinders
And we’re cover it up again
Smothering everyone
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Cut City Sweden
Blind men leading deaf mutes in handcuffs through a minefield. Swedish cosmopolitans with table manners. We were there when the dam begun to burst. 1979, year of Lorde.
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