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Black Hymns

by The Coward Robert Ford

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1.
Voyeur 03:46
Your hands smell just like sulfur Calling yourself a basement martyr Hair slicked back in style Everyone you know and love put you on trail And I’ve been sleeping just fine Knowing you’re all eyes And just in case I’m gonna break this space Break this space And I’ll save face It’s the only thing That makes me feel safe
2.
Ouija 03:28
Leave, go Were the only words you used to know Yet you’d gut everything I sow See it’s holes? They’re eyes made for white sheet ghosts And they haunt every room you own What’s it’s like it to be the better man? Came closer than I ever did What’s it like to be the better man? Wish I came closer but I never did What’s it like to be the better man? Clean glasses with no grain of sand What’s it like to be the better man? To hold the one you love in your hand? (Time, did it heal?) (What’s it like to be the better man?)
3.
Coffin Birth 04:20
You can’t remember what’s next You’d face this mess And your psalm is on your palm On the tip of your tongue And it goes, building up slow Creating those nodes And it goes la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la You can’t remember what’s next I’d face my mess You know I mean well and that’s just it That’s the fucked up part You know I mean well and that’s just it That’s the fucked up part It goes la la la la la la la la la la la la La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la You can’t see me here With my broken spear You know I mean well and that’s just it That’s the fucked up part I know you mean well and that’s just it That’s the fucked up part
4.
Sitri 04:37
Did you say it’s name? Did it hang in the ether? Did you say it’s name? Did it treat you like you mattered? Did you see it’s face? Did it make your lip sliver? Did you see it’s face? Putting arrows in your quiver I let God judge you on your faults My lack of willingness to call My rotting skin Fell off the bone again I let God judge you on your faults I lack the fortitude and thought My burning hands Are throwing stones again
5.
Intruder 01:48
6.
Phones, they ring when you’re not home Ghosts roam around in dial tones Moans lie dormant in floor clothes Clones of you are what I see on my own You are inevitable You are persecutable And yet, you are irreplaceable ‘Cause you are my necessary evil
7.
Mangler 03:33
It falls apart The birth from scars Can I watch it from afar? You’re sleep deprived You are the one To gouge your eyes out A scab of blood Surrounds the sun We’ll watch just for fun A sweet demise The worms will love I’d bury myself alive
8.
Tunnels 03:12
What’s it like To freeze underneath the ground? Pulled aside Death walked right on by I’d beg for your southern world So you don’t have to go For your holy unknown So they could spare your soul My heart Will always tick out in the end My head Is bound to erase the friends in this Guess I was never really meant

about

“Songs about death, guilt, infidelity, and self-realizations of monstrous behavior that invoke the feeling of holy war within yourself. A war that is not fought with light and dark, but rather despair and self-pity. They exchange the church and choir for condemned homes in the middle of nowhere that fill with the hums of ghosts.”

credits

released June 5, 2019

Samual Glass - Guitars, vocals, keys, mixing, production
_______

Thanks to:

My family; my mom, dad, stepmom, brothers, stepbrother, sister, and stepsister. Everyone.

My chosen family in no particular order; Derrick, Zach, Nolan, John Cena Seth, Ben, Carter, Ross, both of my boys named Alex, Willow, Rachel, Connor, Aldon, and the sassiest and horniest married couple I’ve ever talked to, Grant and Seth.

“The ships that passed in the night”; Emily, Hunter, Hayden, Wyatt, Phil
_______

In memory of Reid Elsass, a brother to my chosen brother whose loss is felt immensely by everyone who met him and had the privilege to even spend a few minutes with him. A man who deserves a cult following of ravenous blues fans and copious praise for the music he left behind.

In memory of Christoph Niewiesk, a childhood friend to many who we all look back on fondly. I still see your funny smug face saying “Brand New what?” every time I see a Brand New shirt. I acted like your lame joke annoyed me every day, but I always walked away laughing. We we grew up together and we drifted apart in our teen years, but it didn’t lessen the blow of the news of your passing. I can only imagine the gaping hole those that stayed close felt.

In memory of Jeff Glass, my dad is the reason I kept writing this album. How proud he was of me for this album is something I never thought possible as he was musical titan to me my whole life. I see this album as warm reminders of the sting of his beard on my neck when I hugged him when he came home from work as a child, the brash-but-well-earned confidence he displayed when playing a new song he wrote, and the unintended goofiness he had when letting out a sigh with a southern-drawl-drenched “aw shit” afterwards to show his disappointment at whatever was bothering him that day.

I love and miss you, dad. You were the epitome of confidence to me and the only one who backed it up.

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The Coward Robert Ford Jacksonville, Florida

pretentious nihilistic slowcore bootgaze post-emo doomer music

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