1. |
No Language
06:26
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Down on the pavement
Below the clattering scales of balance
Into clay built walls
The necklace of pearls is inwoven
Silenced but not convinced
When the story was ended
The blacksmith stood like a man
Who wants to speak
But finds no language
All his thoughts
Congealed into lines in his face
As the vapors freeze
In fantastic shapes
On the window panes
In the course of time
Laws of the land are corrupted
Weak are oppressed
And mighty rule with an iron rod
Meanwhile apart
In the twilight of windows’ embrasure
Set lovers and whispered
Together beholding the moonrise
All of his thoughts
Congealed into lines in his face
As the vapors freeze
In fantastic shapes
On the window panes
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2. |
Forms
03:14
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Just a little bit of pain
To wash away the edge
Just a little bit of driving
To get ahead
Sound systems set up
In a rush of satisfaction
Contrary to established
Forms of perfection
I saw you leaving
I saw you leaving fast
We never connected
It wasn’t meant to last
So why is this feeling
All up in my head
Like I might’ve missed something
Like it wasn’t that bad
I look away for a moment
And it doesn’t call back
Just a wasted life
With too much regret…
I flew over the water
In my memory shroud
Destination not destiny
Pride being not proud
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Mission to the Sun Detroit, Michigan
Detroit based project Mission to the Sun synthesizes ambient, post-industrial landscapes with expansive arrangements and haunting vocals to create an atmosphere of lamentation for the world left behind.
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