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about

"...and the ones that break us."
_
A song off of the follow-up to Black Manifestations; Black Masks.
Coming this winter.

lyrics

Waste it, you taste this now
All for what? A little fun? Yeah
Wasted, sedate my trust
Bottoms up, porcelain tough

I get what I get and I think that's fine
What I don't get is your state of mind
Fix the blanket, I'll lay limp
And I'll close my eyes

You run, you run, you run
A finger down my spine, spine
I know, I know, I know
This body's not mine

I'm floating in and out, losing time and sound
Waiting for the other shoe to come down
I'd rather be gutted and die, gored up quick than be left alive
Yet I'm still here, so all I can ask is why

Why make me number nine
Number nine, number nine, number nine
Number nine, number nine
Number nine, number nine

Hated, I'm fading now
I might sleep in the middle of the street right in front of me
Hate it, the sound of a moan
Drunk driver in a truck and I'm the deer in the road, all prettied up

I get what I get and I think that's fine
But what I don't get; why I was chosen for headlights
Thrash in the windshield, the glass tastes thin
As it cuts my eyes...

You run, you run, you run
A finger down my spine, spine
I know, I know, I know
This body's not mine

I'm floating in and out, losing time and sound
Waiting for the other shoe to come down
I'd rather be gutted and die, gored up quick than be left alive
Yet I'm still here, so all I can ask is why

Why make me number nine
Number nine, number nine, number nine
Number nine, number nine
Number nine, number nine

I get what I get
And I think that's fine
And I think that's fine
And I think that's fine

credits

released September 8, 2022
Samual Glass - guitars, vocals, synths, drums, production

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

The Coward Robert Ford Jacksonville, Florida

pretentious nihilistic slowcore bootgaze post-emo doomer music

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