1. |
Frantic! High!
03:50
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Frantic! High!
In a frantic hurry through the night
streetlights flying past on every side
a pent-up anger floating through our veins
burn-out cigarettes, dead worms in the footwell of this car.
We are frantic! High!
Kamikaze birds on fire!
With a touch of god
that no god would presume to do with us
Are the white lines bright lines
or nothing more than self-deceit?
Do we feel a hot flush
cause our senses pitch a fit?
A tropical white morning glory
the atlantic mist
That sort of things is strictly for the birds.
In the electric mist.
Its sound so deep, a cardiac arrest
night time stories, late night tales self-set
a pent-up anger floating through our veins
a blank cassette that plays its tune, vacuum Tristesse
We are frantic! High!
Kamikaze birds on fire!
With a touch of god
that no god would presume to do with us
Are the deep cuts deeper
than the feelings choked for years?
Do we feel a hot flush
cause our senses pitch a fit?
the very least we can expect
in the electric mist
a frantic journey through the night through the
the atlantic mist.
So frantic! High! Kamikaze birds on fire!
With a touch of god that no god would presume to do with us
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2. |
Little Machines
03:56
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Little Machines (Annabel Lee)
Staring at home through the old window glass
by those fences that share me from real
this pale moonlight woman, her skin is like milk
all flowered by westwood & gin
She’s walking, not talking, right like a machine
conducted by invisible strings
her eyes on the ground, she exhales nicotine
my beautiful Annabel Lee
Can’t she see all those little machines
accutaded by her phantoms
all those little, little machines
this love can feel like suicide?
She’s swimming so blandly, so stock-still like caught
in a freezed-up (and) etherised room
that moulds apparitions to no avail
of the dead body of Annabel Lee
perhaps she’s dying in her daily trying
shackled by invisible strings
i hate all this walking, it’s like speechless talk
conducted by those little machines
(but) Can’t she see all those little machines
accutaded by her phantoms
all those little, little machines
which one will push the sky away?
These aren’t the 90ies, she’s not Pia Lund
She’s just somebodies girl.
Maybe she’s crazy or jilted at once
maybe she just wants to be free
Can’t she see all those little machines
accutaded by her phantoms
all those little, little machines
which one will push the sky away?
(spoken) For the moon /// the moon /// the moon never beams, /// without ///bringing me dreams /// And the stars never rise, //// but I feel the bright eyes ///
Of the beautiful /// Annabel Lee
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3. |
Michael Stipe
04:17
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Mr. Stipe (in these times)
This Flower is scorched, this film is on
they play R.E.M. on my radio,
we’re ducked out in a row - who wears us out?
And that one line sets the Thames on fire
I know these words
but they’re hurting me much more
than one can say (than one can say):
You came to bang,
To bang, bang, bang,
To blame, to blame,
It's not my thing so let it go now.
so let it go.
I had control, I lost my head
i know these words
have heard them hundred times before
I'd close the door and leave
In these times so dark and lonely
times of pandemic restrictions
we have to rise and shine
with the sound of our times
Mr. Stipe, I think it’s on you
even though you hardly don’t know
you have to rise and shine
with our soundtrack of life.
The Wake-Up Bomb (and) Undertow
(with) Strange Currencies, So fast and Numb,
She just wants to be, (and I will) Disappear.
I’ve said too much - no-one will hear
with intention of to bring this melody
to the guy who find the right words to sing
In these times so dark and lonely…
Ohohoho… you have to rise and shine
bring these special movements of our lifetime
to the place of hope and grief
Trying to keep - keep up with you and I
I don't know if I can do it - can i do it?
or was that just a dream?
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4. |
There goes my head
03:23
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There goes my Head
Thank you for hating me
Thank you for making up just lies
about the things we’ve shared
Thank you for treating me
to break away from our past
and all the things we’ve shared
Now I am freaked out and alone
My body is psyching out
the scars remind my intent to destroy
this song is my answer for losing control
walking in quicksand and no place to go
i fly like a bird into the climax of storm
fuck you, you demons just go (go away)
Thank you for hurting me
Thank you for hiding me somewhere
like a clumsy, little child
thanks for disharmony
thanks for your supercilious style
and all the things you’ve said
and if I’m freaked out to adorn
if my head is spinning round
the scars remind my intent to survive
this song is my answer for losing control
walking in quicksand and no place to go
i fly like a bird into the climax of storm
fuck you, you demons just go
this goes out to all hideous monsters we share
the innards of something we all try to bear
hysterical moments and absence of mind
fuck you, you demons inside… inside….
this song is my answer for losing control
walking in quicksand and no place to go
i fly like a bird into the climax of storm
fuck you, you demons just go
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5. |
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The House that nobody wants
they’d build it to live in,
to stare from the roof
the house that nobody wants
the walls clayed in ivy
they’d papered the rooms
in dead-black designs and cold print
now the paint is all cracked
and the wood is peeled of
and the weed has grown on its own
and no-one will ever, will ever return
to the house that nobody wants
so please dry your tears from all sorrows
dry your old parka from rain
leave this house without looking back on
all hopes and dreams you’ve build in
find a new home (ho-ome)
a new place to grow
find a new home
a new place to grow
there were birds in the chimney
and ladies’ delight
in the garden that invites you to stay
but the love is all gone
and the flowers are seared
it’s like coney island in rain
and it all died away
in a couple of month
and the trees (they) are fallish and drab
and no-one will ever, will ever return
to the house that nobody wants
so please dry your tears from all sorrows
dry your old parka from rain
Leave this life without looking back at
all mistakes and all scandals you’ve caused
find a new home (ho-ome)
a new place to grow
find a new home
a new place to grow
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Bad Moon Brilon, Germany
The german noisefolkband Bad Moon was formed in 2018 to give folk music a new dark & noisy
attitude.
Their first EP "She sings love songs while our cities burn", what was released in early 2019 is a very stripped down and introspective 4-track piece, particularly on the harrowing "Cushing' Law" and "Gauge Away". Only the bouncy "Head/Down" lightened the otherwise melancholy mood of the EP.
... more
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