1. |
I Cast a Thread
06:26
|
|||
I shot us down
The center of the street
and through the screeching metal
To taste the spell that made us shiver
I cast a golden thread at the cemetery gates
and held you closer to whisper:
I am not a minotaur
Now I’m in the thick of it:
Digging my own graves
Abandoning the dead ends
We have to find the perfect death, tangled in a golden mess
We’ve got to find the perfect death, strangled by a golden thread
Pretending to know what the fuck death is
What the fuck life isn't
What the fuck life is
I would remember- I’ve been here forever
and I exist without seams
The only thing that time means
Is that I won’t be alive
Like this tomorrow
Looking at you
Suddenly my visions are disassembling
Suddenly, my body said:
I’m too antiquated to go on
I’m getting out at the next grave
There was a fire in me, but feelings are fleeting
We always want new, we always want more
I am too quick to let go and I never look back
So I cast a thread
Vishnu’s pulse is on my neck
but it’s been 6 months since it was checked
It’s all a part of my search for meaning
In a restless dimension that strips it from me
So hear my words: you were right
You know me better than I know myself
In the strangest of places
You were right
You were right
|
||||
2. |
Drugs
08:00
|
|||
The course is set:
Breastfed on synthetic oil
Swaddled in antifreeze
This child is born; but in this dark modern era
Will the child only know the light of a lamp post?
Don’t hold your breath
You’ll be holding it until you’re dead
Don’t hold your breath
You’ll be lobotomized by your own mechanical devices
...but drugs give them an escape
You can’t save us
You can’t castrate us
We go on vacation
You can’t tame us
You can’t castrate us
We’ve resigned
In blood
The course is set:
I’m 22 years old and there’s nothing to show
I’m smaller and weaker and dumber than before
This child is shorn, and his shoes are full of holes
Running from the lamp posts- a sick green glow eats up my shadows
If there’s no hope in this world
We’ll move on to the next one
On our desert island
There is no food or water
and the sun will boil our brains
but at least we’ll be free
|
||||
3. |
Let's Move to The Farm
04:37
|
|||
Life’s been weird for a couple of years
I don’t want to grow up, but here I am
Dropped out of college
Never saw that one coming
Living paycheck to paycheck
Just good enough for nothing
We always need more
Than we can get.
I can’t afford the food that feeds
Deep down to our tingly toes
Half my money goes to the government
The other half to my bills
A quarter for food, and a quarter for gas
Never knew what it was like to be poor
but now I know what it means
To really need something
That’s just beyond my reach
Running behind on laundry and groceries
Running behind on everything I need to do
and I’m getting my sleep, yeah
but I am too tired to care
That my sheets aren’t on the bed
I know I need to try this hard
To take care of myself
I know I need to crash this hard
When I fuck up at work
I know I need to love so sweetly
and love my job with absolution
I need this to be over soon
It’s time
To drop the ball for good
Let’s move
To the farm
and feed the hand that feeds
We’ll be shepherds of the Earth
Golden grasses of bread and beer
Barren skies and stripes of light
Awkward dirt with a hidden past
The holy water’s bittersweet blast
When the day’s work is the day’s play
Nobody will be in a hurry
|
||||
4. |
Feverhead
03:36
|
|||
I can’t deny that my attitude could use some adjustment.
I can’t deny that I have no right to complain.
When I get a fever, I don’t want to be down.
I’m doing all I can, so why am I so hard on myself?
Pack up
The day is done
You can’t see what you’re doing in the dark [[dark dark dark dark]]
By candlelight I wrote about the things that mattered
but what filled me then
Spilled on a single page in my journal.
The heavy heavy truth was just subjective
So don’t be so depressed
Just because you think you know how it is
Sometimes we don’t, sometimes we do
It’s hard to know-
but if we do, we are not alone
We’re not alone
We’re never never alone
They won’t let us be alone
They’re watching us
We have sinned against the father
We enjoy great health deaf to his name
We live in a bubble about to pop
and our angels are descending
To rain hell
No, wait
That’s just us
We are powerful
and it’s not only ignorant
To deny your power
It’s fucking immoral
We must know ourselves
and act for the good of others
To be truly great people
So, don’t pass your crying friend to the next guy
Tell me why you believe what you believe
Fight all of your tiny battles
I’m not going to stop loving you
|
||||
5. |
Little Fawn
04:20
|
|||
Lover, your touch created this voice
Your skin is my skin
Your suffering spawned all compassion
You’re the gentle breeze of the fall
You blessed me- you raised me right
Right out of the scum that the flies crawl home to
When they don’t deserve the shit that they dwell in
But, some boys
Take
More than they deserve
Some boys, they say:
Gimmie everything
A little fawn with spots I keep
I water her with potpourri
When sticks and stones are softer than hydrogen
It’s because
Some boys are constructs of knives
Wasted and determined at 1pm
I’ve got to be brave to feel
Surgery on faces we used to respect
We’re going to make them ugly as hell
Will he ever know how it feels to have to choose what to let in?
To have your choices torn to shreds?
If you have a daughter who cries
If you die thirsty, hungry and rejected
If you have your body destroyed
If you feel pain in every touch
I hope you understand
Never
Lay a finger on our flower again
We will make you hurt again and again
We will
Bury you
Under her gentle roots
|
||||
6. |
Ghosts
06:34
|
|||
The weight of the world is much too much for me
But I’m lifting it if only bit by bit
I’m kicking and screaming: it’s too much for me
My childhood is much too far away
I can hear the rain patter on my window
My heart- it sinks right into the panes
Wrap myself in cloth so I can hide and die
Away from all prying eyes
I have masochistic ghosts in me
That blur the lines of reality
I am martyrs in my sleep
At the mercy of scenes that you would not believe
There ARE dying ghosts in me
That turn my lungs into sludge-
and only when I submit to death’s grip
I can fall asleep
|
March of the Ant Michigan
Hello, nice to meet you! We are March of the Ant, and we play music to fall in love. Our genre is poem rock, which means that the lyrics are written as stream-of-consciousness poems, and the instrumentals are written to change with the rhythm and feel of the lyrics. Let us know if we make you feel something :) ... more
Streaming and Download help
March of the Ant recommends:
If you like March of the Ant, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp