1. |
Onto The Cover
03:33
|
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Oh so sudden
the police arrived
the headlights of their car
made the alley oh so bright
Oh there he was
visible to all
with his pants
on his knees
in the middle of
sexual intercourse
with the prettiest boy
the cops had ever seen
Within five minutes
all the media was there
flashing lights ; clicking sounds
It was their news of the day
Prime time material
It was what they all hoped for
Finally the editors
could write their beloved words
sexual intercourse
with the prettiest boy
the cops had ever seen
There was no more time to hide
no more running
No this was it
His face on the cover
of gossip magazine
Such a pretty tag for the famous.
It's what we all want to read
But why do we read this?
And why do we care?
I’ll tell you why
It’s because you and I
Are a bunch of fucking
Hypocrites
Loved by all
Loved for his flaws
Loved like never before
Loved by all of you
No need for tears
No need for shame
Just cash your fame and drive away
Cash your fame and drive away
Be quiet
Be quiet
Be quiet
And drive far away
What’s that?
Another divorce
Public drunkenness?
Another O.D?
Of course...
Another face
Another cover
Another gossip magazine
Another tag for the famous
And we keep buying this shit
We’re fucking junkies
We’re all fucking junkies
You and I are junkies
We’re all fucking junkies
We’re fucking junkies
We’re all fucking junkies
You and I are junkies
Addicted to this smack and crack
|
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2. |
Waiting For Sue
04:04
|
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With an absent mind I’m drawing lines into the sand
Thoughtless figures emerge, meaningless at best
Already spent an hour or four, waiting for my waitress
A dog steals a bread - I light another cigarette
I’m here
Always
I’m always here for you
In the distance I hear some kids playing ball on a field - victorious cries
The sun is burning hot, sweat dripples down my neck
I squint my eyes and reach for my shades
I’m here
Always
I’m always here for you
I’ve been staring at this door for eternity times three
This fucking parking lot is turning into a cage
I feel trapped, yet I long for this place
I’m here...
But where the fuck are you?
I’m near...
But nowhere... where are you?
I’m here
But where the fuck are you?
I’m here
But got no fucking clue
And then the door opens
But still no sign of you
This diner of disillusion
Forms a black hole in my soul
This must be real, right?
This cannot be a dream, right?
This better be real
This better be true
It better be real
It better be you
‘Cause I’ve spent my
whole life waiting for you
With an absent mind I'm drawing lines into the sand
Night has fallen over me, manifest of loss
But the wait will never end if I will not give up
With new found hope I light another cigarette
|
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3. |
Funeral For Five
03:43
|
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They're unaware of what to do
so devoid of hope in their so called homes
a flatscreen tv the one last witness
of this fucking epic tragedy
All they know is what they hate
Focusing on who to blame
No scenes of serenity
just the noise of their tv-therapy
A letter to the studios
a bus ride for hours
A layer of make-up
A list of what to say (and when to cry)
And they spill their guts
And they feel so cleansed
TV-doctor will make it alright
TV-doctor will save all their souls
These five disillusioned lives
Riding high on fantasies of fame
All their flaws fixed so easily
Through their magical TV-therapy
Just one day in the studios
And they all get flowers
In layers of make-up
A list of what to say (and when to cry)
Another session of pseudo therapy
“Hey man, look at me! I'm spilling on national tv”
Dr Phil - save us... Save us from ourselves
Dr Phil - save us... Save us from ourselves
The audience feeds on this misery
Leeches’ legal tender
Commodified woe distillery
Just to quench our thirst
One session in the studios
And they all feel better
In layers of make-up
Already forgotten what was said
Another session of pseudo therapy
“Hey man, look at me! I'm spilling on national tv”
Fixing their flaws
While flying on fame
But the fame will fade
And the flaws will stay the same
Back home they find
Empty graves for their minds
A gun, legally obtained
With all five bullets named:
‘Funeral for Five’
Waiting to fire
|
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4. |
Brass Orchids
04:03
|
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...to wound this autumnal city
So howled out for it to name me
I am here because it called me
Prism, Mirror, Lens...
Have I lost myself and if so when and where?
I feel that somehow I must know
but I don’t even know who the fuck I am
Days dragging
Spent drinking
Lost in echoes
And distortions
If I lost my name
Does that set me free?
I’m tied to this landscape
Of saprophytic qualities
The streets still have their names
But the city is rearranged
In a constant flux
And so it changes us
Dragging
Drinking
Echoes
Distortions
To wander this cerebral city
Caught between these thoughts so gritty
My name lost, now reduced to kiddy
House of Ax
Have I lost myself and if so when and where
I feel that somehow I must know
but I don’t even know who the fuck I am
Refracting
Words written
When ashes
Grey the grass
The thought ‘I am going to die’
Yet blood still beats in my ears
Is this what thinking feels like?
Is this what it means to be alive?
Does this mean my mind is gone?
But what does that even mean?
Is my mental illness real?
Or just an illusion? You tell me
Refracting
Written
Echoes
And distortions
I have come to wound
Have I? Have I?
Am I wounded?
Am I? Am I?
Healed or hurt
Is it the same?
I’m lingering in
Ruins of confusion
Dragging
Drinking
Echoes
Distortions
Do these notebook poems reveal truth
About who I just might be?
So howled out for the world to give me a name
A ghosted smile
Lit by two moons
While a red sun
Burns this city
Forever adjustable
Therefore unlearnable
I’m still lingering, but
I have come...
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5. |
||||
When I was 26 years old I felt my life
slipping through the cracks
Felt the weight of the world
like a noose around my neck
I nearly lost it all, couldn’t give a shit
I gave up, couldn’t take another hit
I was gone, on my way
Spirit broken, my body followed
Yet at the ultimate moment
A hand reached out to me
Pulled me back, gave me a slap
In the face and made me see
For so long all I felt was
Embracing fear and despair
Yet seconds before I left
I felt so much more
When I was 26 I almost died
but Norma Jean saved my life
It hit hard, straight to the heart
I was shown the way back to the light
Now I know, to let go
To keep on keeping on
Let go
Let go
Let go
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Kitty Hawk Amsterdam, Netherlands
Kitty Hawk is an Amsterdam based foursome playing thrashing alternative rock with a hardcore punk attitude. Terrorpop, so to
speak.
Founded in 2016 they have released the 6 song ep 'Lines of Flight' in 2018. In 2023 they released the EPs 'Interstitial' (April) and 'Frictional', following both more polished and more intense avenues.
... more
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