1. |
Venus' Bridge
03:10
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2. |
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The shape of sin ripples like an urban forest
The contour of sin takes you on a hero’s journey
Get closer and closer to the immaterial core
Get closer and closer to a thirst you can’t quench
Get closer and closer to the vanishing point
Somewhere on the highway
Somewhere a few years ago now
Just a little past halfway
And so you left the lights on
The city is naked in the wintertime
Let’s slit our wrists together
Let’s wait it out in the bathtub
Moonlight dances from a paint can
Let’s learn our lesson about desire
We’ve tried our best with these skins
Don’t forget to lock the doors
Can you hear the birds singing
It’s like a jungle in here and the walls are made of steel wool
And everything seems to molder away
A ghostly presence wanders down the hall
We’ve tried our best with these stories
We’ve tried our best with these situations
Can you hear the birds singing
We open another door and walk in on the original shame
Does it have to happen in the bathroom
When do the systems starts collapsing
When does a good Samaritan intervene
Why won’t anybody intervene
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3. |
The Snowdrops Watch
06:18
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The labyrinth has you
The labyrinth contracts
I can hear the flowers whispering
A depraved young man
Watches the trains go by
I wanna hold his hand
I wanna reassure him
Like a prophet on the soapbox
I’m going to kill all these tyrants
I’m going to burn this city down
Destroy every monument
Destroy every remnant of life
Examine how the universe formed
Recreate this situation
Relive this tragic scene
No exceptions from the rules
No leaves will be pressed
In your grandfather’s diary
This forest is where I grew old
This forest has a crooked feeling
Like the winds of time have chosen me
And no one knows yet
And no one will interfere
With my assumption of power
The rise of the individual
The death of an old friend
The valley where hate lives
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4. |
The House of Wellness
08:35
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Think of darkness now
Think of the river winding south
Think of shameless acceptance
Drink away the summer in a small town
Drink away a sense of disillusion
It’s best to keep things private
It’s best to keep things out of the known world
The moon is a vengeful sorceress guarding over your every step
Think of endless fields
Think of dancing shadows
The evils of the world don’t get dressed anymore
Don’t remember the taste of food
Don’t leave the lights on in the belfry
Violence is very beautiful
Violence is a necessity
The symptoms are inexplicable
Violence will bridge an impasse
Violence is hopeless against these human inventions
Establish an intimacy between the knife and the old world
Between the highway and over
Between moral and structure
Between the car and another day
Between home and escape
Between grief and the city
Between light and the object
Establish an intimacy
A beautiful intimacy
An enduring intimacy
To hell with this intimacy
Backsliding with this intimacy
Get out of town
Get out of my sight
Get out with this wretched intimacy
Out angels out with this intimacy
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5. |
Confraternity / February
12:17
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On a different street
sweeping the corners of time
With a strange new sorrow
We’re all of a strange new mind
Undoing ourselves
Discovering new things
And someone has to be writing this down
Someone must be writing this down
The road is blocked
And the embers of snow
The black blood
washes the staircase
As the basement sinks
I can’t breathe now
I can’t breathe now
I can’t breathe
The silence slicks through
The shame congeals
Behind the red door
Salvation walks with lucid veils
Into the gladiatorial sphere
And the wind picks up
I can hear it howling over distant fields
I don’t know where I’m going
I don’t know where I’m going
I don’t know where I’m going
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6. |
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An acetate dream
A chameleon day
The sad little cottages all torn down
We meet at the wrong time
We meet on a pale beach
We meet in a mundane situation
The literature section is on the fifth floor
And the streets look so beautiful at night
An evil curse infects these hills
Trying to change our thoughts
Trying to give your life worth
I won’t love you the same way but I can try
I’m drowning and waking up in a different place
The loneliness strikes in the mountains again
The silence that births itself
The morning stands
The spirit is distilled
No coronation rites
No factory windows
No light refracting
The unfinished text
I won't love you the same way but I can try
To love these hallways
To love these bridges and springs
To love these strange fumes
To love these gnashing waves
To love this beautiful thing
To love this invisible thing
To love this treacherous thing
To love this horrifying thing
To love this beautiful thing
To love this beautiful thing
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Briscoe Operators Syracuse, New York
Innovations in home-recorded experimental post-punk from Syracuse, N.Y.
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