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Quietism

by Red Rosa

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1.
Red Brigades 04:52
down in the shade by the river struck backs glistening orange watch the strings float them into concrete trees and barbed wire i can feel it in my shoulders falling found a dead body by the train tracks the twist of a pistol towards my chest gleaming christ, forced to a cross before i heard anything see the signs turn to plastic cash before i was told what it was the walls falling into cracked tarmac place but the shotgun looms from the window how do i listen and fight you jab for the ears in cinder blocks none of this will last, none of this will last the smile before the storm thunder a step on melting tarmac quake on the waves, but i keep going you can’t even solve a murder lurking militant in purple shadow you’ll never catch me, death is gunfight hidden in cooled dark hills the closest i’ll get to peace
2.
Pisschrist 09:47
track marks swallowed by shut palm tree street light dripping chloric bubbles to a diseased needle gripped by the throat running out of inmates to fight its fires you can’t see me, dancing in a maze bring me a flag, hell normalised eye an assault rifle, grant us your love look at me and die i sleep under knifed blankets clean the wounds crude, choked seal bleakened turned a home shut up fatalistic, bare your back looked at death and started dancing get the fuck off my case, fuck you i’ll have my hair as long as i want i’ll speak exactly how i like they’re cutting the lights on me no phone, don’t use it anyway helicopter vulture, just keep running terror swings from the door hinges i am whatever, bleeding degenerate purifying fire fuck it all, fuck it all i will look at this fucking pisschrist
3.
i killed my idols in 17 never felt so free couldn’t get on top piles of words beneath me the nicest robot ever lived was never any use but He met a girl and broke a fuse burning your tongue means getting older once in a while, when you feel a need to tell her hit my head on the table going down on a vicious red flag steep menthol slopes to town i’m staring at depictions of exotic fruit burning your tongue means getting older once in a while when you feel a need to tell her getting out here if you like it or not hit where the drum skin’s hot this is lyrical, death is a miracle no rich man’s free, grave’s camaraderie biting your tongue means meeting those whose smiles line up like FBI files biting your tongue is a metaphor for when there’s no discernible means to an end
4.
a writer’s holiday, all limbs leaden you write itself down, blinded the dogs, the sirens howl but don’t bite slowly the organs shut down you’re lazy and you know it crippled humid, suspended animation stumble a street in hope, they’re in bubbles they hand out leaflets, you laugh and walk past spread in fright, there’s no one there the night dubbed up to the eyeballs the chair kicks itself, swings from the light you saw it come, and you watched it die
5.
Flick Knife 04:57
they said that nothing mattered we lie, he bleeds in the street we polish one coin in a pocket the dye rubs out, the clouds a lock so-called relegation battle bring your bottles and bats music the clank of ships itching, watch through the fog (chorus) sing to me and i’ll forget it all inter-city, gleaming sodium web my face flooded in the dark as a child spying the street just talk to yourself, it’s easier sickening mayhem in my eyes bring me holy immolation innocent terror in four walls what is it when the truth’s a lie (chorus) i see the walls close up bleeding still you can’t touch me slow float on a tidal wave watching the silence of seagulls i hate you and i want you to die at least that’s the morning sorted running the clock down, easy we just melt away into the crowd (chorus)
6.
plastic crucifix virgin dribbled up and down the road as pilgrimage a bell tolls up on the next hill floating as stained white sheets we used to run in circles in the sunshine gleamed as sacrifice, hidden whining slumbered in the forest of the true cross my feet cracked as the plains i can’t see clearly (chorus) and i fall victim to myself the same warped palm tree chorus collapse from light to shadow, sliding from pole to pole, in and out the wound there are no opposites just angles take what you saw, lie to yourself it’s just natural, just a reflection slow spoiling in vicious heat nude and mutilated i see as weathered palm i fear nothing, the back roads sleep hazy i glimpsed horror in his eyes, his words echoing in cast off lakes of a midnight vigil hold them back, just hold them back i watch the cars swing in the dark as murals sprayed on the wall turn purple closest that i can get, dusting for prints lord knows i tried, i lie in vice i am the snake in slow swollen stars my neck choked reluctant turn the light off, the window shows me i am blind, but i’ve seen his ashes floating on a worn down breeze in every silent minute, i walk dead as he sings, until the end of time
7.
Quietism 05:31
(instrumental)

credits

released January 21, 2018

Thomas Whittaker - Vocals/Lyrics (tracks 1, 2, 4-6), Bass
Ben Tudor - Guitar, Vocals/Lyrics (track 3)
Edward Wilson - Synth, Piano (track 4)

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Red Rosa London, UK

A post-punk band from South London.

Thomas Whittaker
Ben Tudor
Edward Wilson

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