electronica (253), alternative (291), indie (138), dance (583), esoterica (1), drama (15), mirrors (2), ice-scape (1)

I can see you in the pressure of the ice
Clawing on the backside of a mirror
Do you recognize the bloodstains in my eyes?
The gaze of a melancholy killer
And stiff am I, from my arctic delusions
Cracking at the corners of my wit
And you, a soft warm resolution to be named
Escaped in a futuristic ship

Ah now, you straddle the crested wave
Billowed towards my strangling hand
And lip on lip, the frost will surely pave
An icy knoll on which to land
Come hither to the embalmment of snow
Deliver this man from disenchantment
I can see you in the celestial glow
As the sun sets on our shedded garments

Enough, Enough of this dark cold chasm
Gotta keep it light, gotta razzamatazz ‘em
Don’t have to be the jaded priest
Passing the wine at damnation’s feast
Gotta be just the right size, not to sizes too big
Find a smoothie dance and not a left-foot jig
This chunk of ice ain’t my soul’s assassin
Ain’t got no weakness and I ain’t confessin’
Gotta rev it up to the threshold, sustain
Choke off the demon and his loud refrain
Cut him out like a cancerous cyst
Gotta live like a lover with a cold hard fist

Embrace of the lonely
We yearn to exist
If only in shadows
Of those who are blessed
Embrace of the lonely
We flee to resist
The fruit of redemption
From sorrows repressed

Wrestle with yourself ‘til you’re all unraveled
Wrestle with yourself ‘til you’re all unraveled
Wrestle with yourself ‘til you’re all unraveled
Wrestle with yourself ‘til you’re all unraveled
Never begin the language of lacerating self
Never give in to anguish that drives you from your health
Always see the bright things that shine within the gloom
Always beckon the “might” things when possibilities loom

You’ve taken me for a ride on coat-tails of disbelief
You’re a machine gun of tirades and your sword is never sheathed
You’d damn me at the cradle, berate me at the grave
Drag me through your scandal, pound me wave by wave
Now I’m completely humble but not yet quite undone
Though caught in mid-tumble, not completely overrun

I’m coming to the surface of the Ice
I’m coming to the surface of the Ice
I’m coming to the surface of the Ice
I’m coming to the surface of the Ice



Old cigarette burned crackle silver Danelectro, cheap zoom rhythm box, old analogue board, ebow, and more lo-fi specials!

GB mastering (failed resurrection attempt!)