Comes in an environmentally friendly cardboard sleeve with artwork by Christian Kiely.
Includes unlimited streaming of Time Waits For No Woman
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 2 days
Who is to blame, if you’re game then I’m game.
Who is to blame? If you’re game then I’m game.
If you’re game, then I’m game,
you’re feeling like fair game.
But it’s just a game to you and to them and again
God give me a chance, to please start again.
He’s a bleeding heart, they say with disdain,
but don’t fall apart, can we just start again?
Like the blood trickles down, it made a stain.
Who is to blame for that flick knife whip lash
tongue of yours held in a voice box,
there’s an old voice, missing from my phone box
shawn off vox pop like a gun pop, torn off hip hop
I’m fucking tip top. Wine from a box
in a restaurant watching the waves nonchalant,
always late, what do you want?
Not like I got to tame my black dog,
both had pets, try to find the slot
to blot out the precedent this grief has set,
with a degree I can’t comprehend.
Ready set match go,
if I could have read between the lines,
I’d say don’t.
Take your hands in mine,
handcuff them to the post.
Not like you left any signs, if you did I couldn’t
have pointed you the right, would have just
walked by your side a little longer,
waited till you got a little stronger,
what magic could I conjure,
no straight line just wander,
would have bought the most expensive wine,
we had time to squander, life to conquer.
Now I stand at a crossroads, don’t know what I want.
Maybe I do but I’m just too scared to forsake you.
Fuck you, I really loved you, I need to hug you,
I stand above you.
Who is to blame, if you’re game, then I’m game.
Who is to blame? For the flick knife whip lash
tongue that you gave.
And I still wake with dreams on my lips that I can still taste,
so fuck the embrace you once gave.
Who is to blame? Don’t you dare come home
or show your face, you just take, take, take, take.
In this tug of war we’re not pulling on the same rope,
upstream, not rowing in the same boat.
“Justine, would you please drop that tone?”
No don’t show your face, don’t you dare come home.
What bone will I pick tonight?
Need to pick my fight, wishing bone, will I flick that knife?
Not the apple of my eye but the whole fucking pie.
Stuck, down in the dumps, some days are a struggle
when I feel the puzzle of your missing voice, impulsive choice.
Someone I didn’t want to lose, now I’ve got you,
the most honest conversation is impromptu.
If you need to study you can come to my room.
Dance, old tunes, drink, fresh brews.
I’ll always keep a cider in the fridge for you,
and if you came home, I wouldn’t hit you.
I’d forgive you in an instant
though I am tense to the bone,
tense to the marrow, I’m not angry.
I just really love you bro,
but now I guess you’ll never know.
Hope is a pill in your hand that is hard to swallow,
you were a man that I had to follow.
I was torn, when I heard the news, thinking are you sure?
I remember a tall man, with speech so elegant
he loved me right down to my white skeleton
but his smile was a well rehearsed regimen.
I remember a tall man with speech so elegant
he loved me right down to my white skeleton,
but I guess now, that his love was genuine,
I guess now, that his love was genuine.
from Time Waits For No Woman,
released March 11, 2016
Beat by Jacob Norman.
Recorded, mixed and mastered by T Kabanoff at Caustic's Studio.