1. |
All Complete
06:29
|
|||
|
Once I was dying for her shame,
Then I beheld a brighter flame.
I had to shine on here once more,
Through the fog of bitter war.
I got used to fending off those strikes,
Got blind to interogation lights.
When Torquemada took control,
I closed down the shutters of my soul.
Now I find I'm all complete, I've got everything I need.
Hold it tightly in my arms.
Coming back into the light now I've arrived.
When I found that all was safe,
Nothing bad lived in this place,
I made plans to build a home,
Behind my battlements of stone.
Now I find....
Too many feet walked through this house,
Too many squatters' bags unpacked in here.
They all leave their little marks.
And of all the scars they leave behind,
All the little marks,
The worst scars are those you cannot see.
Three lights light up the road for me,
Showing my chosen path clearly.
Though my head turns from east to west,
They only light the path that's best.
They can't light the scar upon my arm,
That was torn by ragged glass.
Now I find...
|
||||
2. |
When You Were Me
03:57
|
|||
|
Change, we change. I changed to you.
I see all you ever do.
Speciation lines are blurred.
When did you begin?
Keep asking checking what I would have done.
Don’t forget I am where you came from. Don’t lose me.
Diaries, words, a link to me.
I’ve become your history.
Prescient and present I am not to be dismissed.
And when decisions are there to be made,
Your mind is a democracy, there’s you and me in here.
So I got a few things wrong. She was not the chosen one.
All I needed was a muse and a little pain.
You once believed life is not what it seems,
All you need is love and art and peaceful dreams.
You used to have the time to notice things.
To create your monsters in the sacred days when you were me.
|
||||
3. |
Torn My Arm Off
06:35
|
|||
|
Torn My Arm Off
There is no beauty in this war, that she wages on us all.
It separates son and father perniciously and surgically.
A mind full of bellicosity leaves no room for any beauty.
How lonely must be her own world,
When everyone else is a mad conspirator (except her).
She might as well have torn my arm off,
A piece of me goes missing every time.
Drain another little drop of my essence,
As I suffer for her vile crimes.
And in the courtroom of her mind, the jury buys all of her lies.
She could sleep so well at night, talons dripping from the fight.
No Amazon is she I'm sure, no beautiful goddess of war,
Every lie she says to me mitigates herself from her own deity (who watches on).
She might as well...
Rebarbative and full of hate, she thinks she's owed all that she takes.
Nights out and handouts are her right, compensation for being alive.
And when she cut she cut me deep, now I bleed as an amputee,
She tears my first born from my side every time we part,
She takes part of me, because he's a part of me (she knows.)
She might as well..
|
||||
4. |
Ghosts of Winter
05:00
|
|||
5. |
||||
|
When it's gone it leaves a hole as vast,
As its own foundations in your mind.
What makes you you is missing parts.
Joy minus joy is not a zero sum.
Joy, once lost, is sorrow and joy, once lost, is pain.
Joy, once lost, is sorrow, it's not a zero sum.
Some old fool once said "it's better to,
Have loved and lost than never loved".
So we run headlong towards the golden light,
That hides our own private black holes.
Joy, once lost...
When the stars were out, the sky was coal,
I heard the wonder in his voice.
This joy in me is lost in time,
Now sorrow floods the empty space.
When we laughed as freely as children,
And explored our love with wonderment,
Barely hidden beneath our feet,
A fault line threatened everything.
|
||||
6. |
The Sex Habit
04:36
|
|||
|
There is a sweet habit. Must try not to lose it.
If we ever do we’ll separate what is entwined.
Roll your weary body round, join hearts and minds.
Now we face life’s challenge. Don’t break the habit.
Rising. Falling. Emerging.
Holding in our own cupped hands, rare mountain flowers.
Sun will chase the night away. We cannot sense the hour.
Life can rise within you. Do what you must do.
Golden glow, peripheral, long lasting and rare.
Guide us through our darkest times and be forever there.
The sex habit.
|
||||
7. |
Slaughter The Lambs.
04:42
|
|||
|
He stood at the gates of history, never satisfied with what he sees, a
Standing at the gates of history.
Each word says a paragraph, the pretty boys and the Sapphic girls,
The blunt truth about God and Hitler.
I admire too much for envy. Maybe greatness will rub off on me.
You must believe to rest in peace.
Now he’s gone the printed word will live on.
I hope the pain wasn’t too strong and nothing stopped him from writing on,
And sharing a drink with the people he loved.
Pascal’s wager graciously denied,
No deathbed conversion, oh how they tried,
But doubt is the fuel of all discovery.
I admire too much for envy. Maybe greatness will rub off on me.
You must believe to rest in peace.
Now he’s gone the printed word will live on.
Idiots beside me paying me gold, bigots before me wanting my soul,
He is above me pulling me up.
A brain tonic served at the elite club,
Born out of years of standing there,
Forever at the gates of history.
I admire too much for envy. Maybe greatness will rub off on me.
You must believe to rest in peace.
Now who’s going to slaughter the lambs?
|
||||
8. |
||||
|
Come on my dear friend, make the most of this most precious life.
Ask the questions but when the answer comes do not look for lies.
No need for gods or these monsters pedalling blind faith.
Without the faith no sane man could ever subscribe to this disgrace.
The sleep of reason brings forth monsters to mind.
The sleep of reason brings forth monsters, eating reason’s heart.
The truth is elegant. The truth is beautiful.
This truth is elegant.
Just think what we could do if we just accept the truth.
The only monsters live in the hope he gives.
Hoodwinked by fairy fancy and taken in by sin.
Mr Darwin told us, my brothers, we’re part of everything.
Believe creation myths? Well I’m baffled! Isn’t truth enough?
There is no afterlife and if you listen you’ll hear my boiling blood.
The sleep of reason brings forth monsters to mind.
The sleep of reason brings forth monsters, eating reason’s heart.
The truth is elegant. The truth is beautiful.
This truth is elegant.
The sleep of reason brings forth monsters to mind.
The sleep of reason brings forth monsters, eating reason’s heart.
The truth is elegant. The truth is beautiful.
This truth is elegant.
If a god asks for praise, you know a monster’s raised.
The only monsters live within this hope he gives.
|
||||
9. |
Wild, Winged Horses
06:25
|
|||
Barney Byron Northampton, UK
Welcome! Here you'll find my latest self-recorded albums.
Stylistically, it's all over the place. What starts off as
one thing often ends up as another. It's all about the songs that I seem to spend my life chasing. They occupy my mind for a while, I record them and move onto the next one. I'm hugely self conscious about them but here they are, for the world to hear if it would like to listen.
... more
If you like Barney Byron, you may also like:
EG2: Dowsing Voice
by Emma Ruth Rundle
The experimental artist's latest album is a guided meditation into darkness.
go to album
A raucous adventure through noise, no wave, off-kilter DIY prog, and the absurdist side of post-punk from Pagan Athletes.
go to album
The Dublin trio melds post-rock and jazz, adding electronic touches, for a signature sound that's energetic, spacious, and resonant.
go to album
New Words For Old Wounds
by William Ryan Fritch
William Ryan Fritch's enthralling, doomy new CD comes housed in a gorgeous, panoramic gatefold sleeve with bewitching original artwork.
go to album
Heavy EP
by William Ryan Fritch
Fritch marches his wall of cinematic sound into town with horns blaring, chains clanking and drums beating loud.
go to album
Oscillating Forest
by Tangled Thoughts of Leaving
The Australian instrumental band juxtapose classical pianos and ambient swells with uncompromising, proggy post-metal.
go to album
Progressive music ensemble The Grand Sbam's bombastic compositions defy tempo, genre, and description.
go to album
