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lyrics

A haze of smoke hovers, with the tail end lingering by my lips.
I breathe the cloud in, her severed appendages,
Of tar and nicotine.

As the children laugh and the blind men prance, the alleys are growing colder by the hour, but this drumming is increasing in fervor. .

These roads echo the pace you have set, stubborn metronomes reciprocate this unending haste.
I don’t know where you are leading me, but I follow still believing that you’ll pity me one day.

As the children laugh and the blind men prance, the alleys are growing colder by the hour, but this drumming is increasing in fervor. .
As the children laugh and the blind men prance, the alleys are growing colder by the hour, but this chase is increasing in fervor.

------
Then she stops in her place, floats to me with both feet strapped and dangling midair, a grand translucent light, such a lovely dead sight and she says,
stand by me. whisper that which is trite, were you ever sincere? If it’s love that you seek, then darling don’t be weak.
Wield your blade and don’t you stop until my heart and my feet start to shake. Seize this chase. Be gracious. Would you please just kill me now?”

“Save your haste, I’m a torn holy book, all the lies you mistook. If you look close enough you can see black ink bleed into my seams.”

Save myself? I ran my whole god damned life just to prove I was right.
But you’ve always been so far, out of sight.

“Save your haste,
Seize your chase
I’m your ghost,
I’m your slave.
Woe is me,
I’m pleading impale me”

“Shove your fist down my throat,
Threw my guts,
Make it slow
Woe is me,
I’m screaming
Darling impale me.”

credits

from Black Sea of Trees (Remastered), released February 28, 2010
Music & Lyrics: Julian Cires

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LAVOLA Los Angeles, California

Appealing to an emotional space of lost comfort, forgotten feelings and artistic angst, Julian Cires’ genre-defiant indie art project Lavola crafts dangerously intimate and fiercely vibrant songs and live shows filled with volcanic energy and striking nuance. Lavola makes music for painters, music for lovers, and music for the masochists. ... more

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