1. |
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I ran away, head for the hills,
a knapsack nightmare, birth control pills
I'll drink you dead dear, needle my eye,
your precious routine has come untied
False Polaris leading me to nowhere;
I'm so deep I'll document this decline
I'll pull on my tattered overcoat
if you'd take your hands from around my throat
you're making it real hard to get high
I think I'll stay here in these hills;
camaraderie- plants, powders, pills
I'm still alive dear; I'm not sure why
I'll keep on rolling, swept up in tide.
Pontificate- It's not like I was listening. You're gilding shit and telling me it's bullion.
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2. |
Daredevils
03:39
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Back then, I was barely there,
I wore a disconnected stare.
She didn’t really care, just paced the room.
“Will this be enough? I know you’re into harder stuff.
A true substitute for love (once in a while).”
It wasn’t a race, she just had a taste
for the violence of being first in line.
Those wild eyes said with a smile,
“you’ll never get out alive.”
We paid for it, twice a month.
We learned to fool the shakes, and now they’re gone.
Gone, gone, and on to the next one.
I was in the light of a doubt,
I pulled my hair out,
Got my name changed, it’s all the same.
Found heaven under the city, nerves drunk and words twitching.
And the beating of my heart like a bomb ticking.
First its gonna take too long,
then we’re gonna stay up all night til its gone.
Those wild eyes said their goodbyes,
“I better not get out alive.”
We paid for it, twice a month.
We learned to fool the shakes, and now they’re gone.
Like the last rays of son when the moon finds one.
Hang on, hang on, hang on.
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3. |
Shoot the Pier
04:52
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Felt the faded hours of the script
Like amphetamine by the drip,
I drifted miles just to take you home.
We set our goals by the scent,
Panic energy and dissonance.
Seemed better than waiting to die alone.
She takes harmony by the clip,
Just to dim her mind’s dirty tricks,
Pretends to sleep until you’re gone.
I razed a night of force-fed fire,
To shoot the pier and graze desire,
To leave unwound, he wrote: “I hope, I hope, I hope, I hope.”
And this feeling that I always get, not boredom.
But a trace of that dull regret.
Disorder will be our common thread.
To sort em, I’m coming back to haunt em.
Stop holding back with your threats.
Stick your razor hands in my chest.
Find whatever it is you’re looking for.
I taste the plight of force-fed fire,
To shoot the pier and graze desire,
To leave unwound, he wrote: “I cope, I cope, I cope, I cope.”
He was found face down, distressed.
Boredom will be my final threat.
Disorder will please the gods again.
Inform em, I’m not coming back….
Based on all these graves we’re not getting out, are we now?
I waited for every scar to turn to pure again.
Wasted all my faith on memories razor bound.
But this how I take em out.
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4. |
3113
04:10
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While I sit smoking all serene and sloppy
I'm leaking all over this page.
With moments moving by/ the bloodletting gets faster
pools in doubt around my feet
Prop me up so you can lean on me
I'm sinking down again.
Is this an ocean or a puddle?
2,000 submarines
cant pull my weight from the bottom
And I'll trace your veins
with a quill and inkwell
and read road map right to your heart
This jaunt is so draining,
but the journey's just beginning
Dragging both workhorse and cart
Dig me up so you can lay with me.
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5. |
November Reigns
04:08
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Twenty-seven and ships are sinking
Sailors write wrought wives.
Thirty-three and my ship came in
brings a tranquil life.
I made landfall once this weekend
float upon the plane
consult compass, west I slip and
November always reigns
and I'll give you my name.
You're giving up just the same.
We'll occupy the space between
nightfall and breaking of day.
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6. |
Ghost Style
04:16
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Take it in, bound to my soul’s regard for fading stars.
Force it out, let it go
I’m no fool: allow those words to burn.
Spit it out, at night, on the town.
That ghost trap, a faded Cadillac.
Just a broken pact: heart attack.
I don’t know
The shape these tears will make
Spilling out on the page.
But these words
Are crafting with bitter ink
Turning loss into flames.
That ghost trap, a faded Cadillac.
Just a broken pact: heart attack.
And it makes me laugh: the so-called angels made of glass.
Easy to break, so easy to see through you’d swear it was fake.
For what it’s worth….
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Broken Bay Coalition Sayville, New York
Chris Lynam - vocals, Fender guitars
Rich Ferrara - vocals, Gibson guitars
Mike Seaman - bottom end
Tony Coleman - drums
Broken Bay Coalition recommends:
Dear, Ms. Wonderful
by Impossible Colors
Good Stuff! Playing @ Fat Baby in NYC with these guys on 1/2/16
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Like the 90's... but better.
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The Things We Didn't Know
by GreenSleep
Awesome band from the 90s on LI... resurrected.
go to albumIf you like Broken Bay Coalition, you may also like:
no such thing as too old! a cute compilation!
by Various Artists
Super sweet indie pop compilation with new tracks from Trust Fund, Boosegumps, etc. benefits the St. Louis Legal Fund.
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Hold The Door For Strangers
by Labrador
Philadelphia-based Labrador make unfussy and empathetic alt-country meant to sincerely bolster the downcast in times of strife.
go to album
Slowcore, shoegaze, twee, and noise find their way into this ambitious full length from the St. Louis band Frankie Valet.
go to album
