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lyrics
Whoops!
Sorry
Fucked up again
Ouch!
Sorry
Dropped one again
Bowling pins and candlesticks on the floor
I can't feel my fingertips anymore
Doesn't anybody want to see me throw fire?
This looked easier on TV
Maybe need a camera pointing at me
Doesn't anybody want to see me throw higher?
What, me?
Speeding?
No, ma'am, not me
Move my hands over you
Move my eyes over you
Take a bite without breaking stride
Muscle memory's not here
My infirmity is clear
Can I, can't I, can I rely?
Would you be more comfortable on the floor?
Wouldn't we be comfortable on the floor?
Me on top of you on top of me on top of you
Singing "Don't drop the ball"
What ball?
No one cares about a ball
They wanna see a few chainsaws
They wanna see me lose my arm, my leg, my cool, my head
What, me?
Stealing?
No...
Screaming from the minarets
Cocks crowing manic depression
My roommate is fucking with me
Policing conspiracy
Early afternoon beguiles
Illuminati astrophiles
Sub-orbital vacillation
Misinterprets manipulation
I slam — as simile
'tis pugilist psychology
Run riddle ragged analogies behind every corner
Someone...
Is this the end of the world?
It's not the end of the world
This is the end of the world
It's not the end of the world
Here comes the end of the world
It's not the end of the world
This is the end of the world
It's not the end of the world
So don't be afraid to drop one
This is the end of the world
But at least you can say you caught some
It's not the end of the world
So rest your wicked eyes
And focus in on the prize
They all ask the same question
But they're not as eloquent as I
An tempestuous post-rock journey inspired by the existential threat of climate exchange, "Triumph & Disaster" overflows with grace and grit. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 9, 2019