1. |
Death to Our Enemies
04:39
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I stood outside of the door.
I was too scared to scream.
Too scared to do anything.
In that moment of fear,
I just sat on the stairs
and begged for the earth to open up and swallow me.
The bruises on your arms were the color of lilac.
They looked like abstract tapestries.
I wasn't aware of my power then to scream,
to put an end to anything.
You walk to your car.
Keys clenched in your hand,
you walk as fast as you can.
There are monsters in the streets
and they're baring their teeth.
And nobody believes you
when you repeat those things they say.
And boys will be boys
until these boys are conditioned into violent, deadly machines.
They'll try to take what they want,
be it your undeserved attention or teeth spread out on the pavement.
They are afraid of what they can't take away,
your right to be what you are without their permission.
The bruises on my arms were the color of lilac.
They looked like abstract tapestries.
But I am aware of my power now to scream, to change everything
to bring death to our enemies.
Death to our enemies.
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2. |
Cold Wind
02:17
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You are a cold, cold wind.
One minute you're here, the next you're gone.
You are a cold, cold wind.
The kind that makes me regret putting shorts on.
You are a cold, cold wind.
Climbing through my bedroom window.
A cold, cold wind.
I watched you give flight to a sparrow.
Sometimes I feel you touching my hair and my eyes shut.
Fall asleep on the couch with the phone in my hand.
Miss a half-dozen phone calls but when I check my messages
not a one of them is from you or any of our friends.
I still speak of our moments in a language of wonder.
I am deconstructing these songs in my head.
I wish I could kill every standard they assign to your gender.
I wish I could find a way to make you whole again.
You are a cold, cold wind.
The kind that keeps me inside on the weekends.
A cold, cold wind.
Coming in real slow off the ocean.
A cold, cold wind.
You signify the change in the seasons.
A cold, cold wind.
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3. |
Tiny Little Stones
03:48
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I could find a place for me without you in it.
I could find my peace-of-mind and forget you every existed.
But first I have a plan
to build a monument of matches in the likeness of a man who
looks like you.
And will burn just like you.
Tiny little stones
imprint indentations
on your skin.
I can feel you on my skin.
Don't touch me.
You have no right to touch me.
Don't touch me.
You have no right to touch me.
Don't touch me.
You have no right to touch me.
Don't touch me.
You have no right to touch me.
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4. |
The Edge of Our Vision
05:56
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Pretty Lousy Bethlehem, Pennsylvania
Pretty Lousy is the DIY effort of Justin Passino, a singer/songwriter currently residing in Lehigh Valley, PA.
Pretty Lousy recommends:
Your Old Life (7" lathe cut record)
by tragwag
TRAGWAG = That Really Awesome Guy With a Guitar. It's not just an acronym. Tyler is one of the best people.
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The latest and greatest and weirdest of Plattsburgh, NY resident Marco Polio. Hunker down for winter and get ready to avoid everyone because everyone is an asshole.
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I Want To Believe In Doom Service
by Doom Service
Vermont Rock n' Roll Weirdos
go to albumIf you like Pretty Lousy, you may also like:
For My Love
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featured on Bandcamp Radio Jan 5, 2016
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Introspective, homespun folk tunes from John Donne that feel informed by the sugary bleakness of '80s and '90s indie pop.
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