1. |
Intro
01:50
|
|||
2. |
Lighthouse
02:08
|
|||
|
And if it’s possible, let me see you one last time before the month fade to darkness and autumn turns to winter. To feel your face on my chest, your velvet coat against my flesh, the smell of smoked cigarettes and a hidden habit. To grasp your face between my hands and warm your cheeks with my thumbs while your reddened nose shines bright with a persistent cold.
With that you would fade, as the homes cast their final shade, you would flutter and crunch to orange dust and your pieces would be thrown with a gust. The tears begin as soon as your gone, because I’m once again hooked on your spirit in the autumn air.
|
||||
3. |
Fog Horn
01:24
|
|||
|
Growing up with you was growing up at the mercy of a coin toss; a child walking on egg shells, never knowing when the violent fury would come to escape the mind-quake of anxiety. For a decade, I was a prisoner to my nest in a sick attempt to rest.
Through a life without support and twisted affection, to quickly turn in a different direction. There was that night you told me to leave, you shrieked and told me you couldn’t stand me, I grabbed my clothes and walked out the door.
Hardly believing your wavering moods had boiled to that extreme and just as I had taken a piece of you, you’ve left your mark on me. Another kid in the world only knowing fear-stained love, destined to never feel at home wherever I may rest.
|
||||
4. |
High Tide
02:02
|
|||
|
This wretched rain-soaked city will be my death. I’m destined to walk these streets until I give my last breath. My blood is the tar, my body these run-down houses. As the street lights flicker on, my chains to them become more strong. Just walking is all that there is left to do, down the same streets, past the same people who don’t have a fucking clue.
The cracks in the cement mark my countless faults, only this relentless wind is pushing me on. I can’t help but think how to escape this vault. The restraints of suburban life with its new hair-dos, supermarket cues, and full yet empty church pews. The blocks have me worn.
|
||||
5. |
Receding
02:33
|
|||
|
I need to get out, because it’s Boston in the fall that reminds me of you. With every breath of air I take, my lungs fill with your voice, your smell, your taste. Through the deafening crunch of the leaves, the blinding colors in the trees, I’m stuck with the image of you.
|
||||
6. |
Low Tide
03:31
|
|||
|
A curse of my paternal branch rooted down through the Irish clan, even if I dawned his very skin I doubt he could look at his own eyes, even through a mirror for the fear of a single fleeting thought of doubt in his own self-righteous life.
I won’t budge and I can’t move, all I can do is sink deeper. His shout a whip crack, neck snap, backlash, with a vengeance and spirit to break. From his father’s temper, the scars won’t fade, caught in the destructive loop with his eyes carrying the weight, pushing it on to another generation, only to be repeated by a hopeless son.
How can one begin to love when his father’s unlove can never be won and must become his own.
|
||||
Featherweight recommends:
If you like Featherweight, you may also like:
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 18, 2023
go to album
The Behavior Of Fighting Animals
by Lavish Glass
Jagged, brutal hardcore that borders on noise at times—in a good way!—every element ramped into the red.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Apr 29, 2022
go to album
Transitional Forms
by 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖕𝖙𝖔𝖔𝖙𝖍
Sharptooth fight bigotry with melodic hardcore, their breakdowns an ideal vehicle for singer Lauren Kashan's incendiary insights.
go to album
