1. |
Mountain Chapel
03:24
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Built from the sticks behind our eyes
Just mountain men looking for a place to survive
With these sticks now in our lives
These Alps a maze
As a mountain opera sang for days
The lost song lead us away
As we followed the old hymn
To the soil where we would settle with our kin
Were we brought our sticks to live
We followed this ancient dream
Of building a muted town
With sound without sounds
He will build a well formed crown
Life hidden in deep
Shovels digging down
The mud is finally found
Wash away the old bounds
Rip life from the ground
The tree a foundation
To the field
That will grip perfect chaos all around
This will be our home
These are our bones
We grew water and stones
Winter wind kids
Hold up our roots from which
We fall though the abyss
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2. |
Chairlift Ghosts
03:34
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Found a way, to that old place
There's just another man on the window
The Paws scape, across the ground
The peaceful beast it moves, all though town
Where have they we gone
This is the place we lived this is the place we lived in
Pantings green, grow from the ground
A triggered brain crowded with sticks and grains
The air moves, underground
Hear the trees watch the leaves as they move to sound
I had entrusted a stranger with a strange thing
My wooden heart that pumps blood in brain
Locked in these ribs it had never seen day
The planets movements don't care about my veins
Winter and water with life all witch way
your Kingdoms will perish but scripts stay the same
Roots grown in so deep with snowstorms they crumple
The sticks still exist though all storms and rubble
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