1. |
In A World Of Old Lovers
03:52
|
|||
In a world of old lovers, you find yourself lost in a dream. Lost in one another, deep within an overflowing stream. Unable to find that feeling described by the dead. As trust is a hard word, leaving us jealous, playing games with only guesses. Doused into believing that you’re better off alone without the mess. Unable to find that feeling described by the dead. Then you see them there, gasping for air, when all they have left is each other. Then you wait, and you wait.
|
||||
2. |
Crooked Teeth
04:22
|
|||
The scoundrels are in the streets running from the west to the east. I don’t believe I'm any different, we all got to eat. Selling the day for the night; for one last second to feel alright. Lets feel alright.
Ask the old man with the crooked teeth. Experience lies in his broken feet. Not for money but for a dream, it all ends up here with a story to a fiend. Selling the day for the night; for one last second to feel alright. Lets feel alright.
|
||||
3. |
Awkward Age
03:36
|
|||
Well they round up the herd, telling stories that they never learned of a world outside of themselves. Always told to have a voice, but not much longer will they have a choice, because experience, it comes with age. Years, that is the only line between you and I. Do you know it’s clear? The young have no fear.
Now my days are forever cold. Love is gone, and it’s always sold. And I find myself growing old. And I cannot recall no memory at all of our so called awkward age.
Years, that is the only line between you and I. Do you know its clear? The young have no fear.
|
||||
4. |
Hibernation
03:10
|
|
||
Silence is between the walls, but the veins in my head say otherwise. Some days it seems easier to give it all away, but then I feel it all come back again; a light forcing its way in. All of it ending and then finding a way to begin once again. Hibernation. Crawling into the ground I always hear a sound of loathing, but images cut through the darkness, like a knife I could grab but not control.
Please don’t freeze. No one really knows what they need.
|
Rust Owl Winnipeg, Manitoba
"There once was an Owl who lived in an oak.
The more they saw, the less they spoke.
The less they spoke, the more they heard.
Wasn't that a wise old bird..."
Streaming and Download help
Rust Owl recommends:
If you like Rust Owl, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp