1. |
Good Orchard
04:27
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Heavy is the yoke, karma on coke, baptized in holy smoke
Half-off afterlife cologne, smell the fire on your clothes
Weary is the ghost haunting your throat, who forecasted all of this hope?
What a shitty way to go, one more thought then hit the road
The path gets easier to find in mountains of goodbyes
Act like there's a difference between living and alive
Subjects scale the fence of time, locking fingers in the night
The world is giving you a sign with a mother's eyes,
"For all of your destruction, it's sweet that you keep trying."
Talk yourself up in the ring, face your death up on the screen
Good fruit grows till it doesn't, better pick your poison, look into the future at the cost of your emotions. Pattern keeper, keep your path, no diverging, no bad maps
Heavy metal fog, orchard of god, chewing my fingernails off
Lead me out into the trees, like a child, quietly
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2. |
Fringes
03:14
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Split my brain in half, because Mercury is retrograding bad
My choices on a tainted astral map
Where half of me is always holding back
Strangers in the house; I’m chased to the fringes of myself
I chewed through the fabric in the couch; I torched all the lights till they all burned out
Till I can’t see anyone else, I cast a shadowy spell
A superficial cry for help, “Just let me walk away”
What goes up must come down, laid to rest, settled down
Take this cup and evening gown, stain it red, go to town
What goes up must be drowned, taken back, settled down
Take this cup and evening gown, paint it red, it’s yours now
Keep my brain intact, because I have met my match
A temporary scratch across my back, now none of me is ever holding back
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3. |
Shadows
04:14
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So is it my age, yin or yang, or something carbon-based in me?
Where’s my second wind, if not now then when? I want patterns I can binge
Dead-eyed, purple hands, ashes to ashes
So it’s only mine to raise, define, to steal, control and lie to?
Inner you, OK, I’m confused:
Let me get this straight, it’s just human nature?
What a waste of time and space
Such a drag, ashes to ash
Shadow tamed
It’s not so easy to review and change my pent-up point of view
Return to habits I can’t shake from who I am, that’s it, we’re safe
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4. |
Facelift
06:46
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Most of my thoughts they just go to waste;, I give them birth and then watch them lose shape Half of them die before leaving my head; empty nest with a cigarette and a heavy crown
Solo transcendence cramped up in a basement, I recognize some of its charm
My generation: postpartum invasion of privacy, no room for the dark
I’m better off inching away from your good graces
A quiet corner, in my defense, nothing made sense
You know that lamp from your old apartment? I plugged it into the younger me’s head
So that it lit up the planets instead, so far away on the other side of death
I’m with the stoics, but most of it’s bullshit, not that important to know
A mini-facelift for our fading patience, no centerpiece, no cornucopia
I’m better off inching away from your good graces
A quiet corner, in my defense, nothing made sense at all
No empty gestures, no sense of adventure, but now it gets interesting, now it gets better
A crack in the pavement, new sleeping arrangements, no taking for granted what’s always been handed to us
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5. |
Nebula
05:11
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New star out of reach, nebula, psychoactive open heart
Flushed space, outer reach; she and he, man and woman, face to face
There’s a dead botanical garden inside them. There’s a dead botanical garden come find them.
Now you feel like a phantom recorded by cameras
Now you feel like a camera surrounded by actors
Who act like they are being fed the lines
New star nursery, grown in genes, hyperactive broken clocks
Lush waste, empty reach, she and he, man and woman, holding space
There’s a dead botanical garden inside us. There’s a dead botanical garden come find us.
Now I feel like a phantom recorded by cameras
Then I feel like a camera surrounded by actors
Who act like they are being fed the lines
There’s a green botanical garden inside them, no harm done, no problem, no eye in the sky to point out their mistakes
There’s a green botanical garden inside us, a slow boat to China, the staircase behind us, no eye in the sky that’s gonna give us chase
There’s a dead botanical garden (dead)
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Poolboy Minneapolis, Minnesota
Poolboy is an indie-rock band from Minneapolis, Minnesota.
In 2017, they were named City Pages' Best New Band.
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