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paint by numbers

from a nursing home by The Scalding House Records

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lyrics

I'm trying to paint by numbers but I keep going over the lines
But the paint is viscous and it sticks to everything I find.
So I'm slipping and I'm failing and I'm covered in this ink
And I'm trying to keep my hands away from all of your precious things.
And so what?
I'm a carrion crow feeding off my own flesh and bones,
pulling organs from holes I was never really whole
I was never really there
I was never really breathing
I was never really giving my all to this bloated galleon of fools
And we sail on and on but no ones at the helm
And no ones on the rudder
We are clutching for the stars but we do it from the gutter.
But I'm trying to stay positive
And I'm trying to stay positive but where's the positivity,
When the flood waters rise and the bridge collapses from underneath of me?
And the galleon is disappearing over the horizon
All the laughing sunshine faces hold and kiss one another
and they look like dolls out at this distance
with the wreckage of the bridge floating around me in broken tiny little splinters.
And I'm trying to paint by numbers but it keeps washing away
and day by day the lines change rearrange to shapes and veins unfamiliar yet utterly mundane.
So here are my coordinates 45 degrees north and 10 degrees west
and arbitrary points on lines marked x y and z.
If you know where I am send a letter to my brethren
tell them I love them all and I'll see you all in heaven.
A broken galleon is washed up in wages and careers
and all the things we strive for
For years and years and years..
And the happy sunshine faces hold their lives above their heads
Cos heaven forbid should they get any of their useless shit wet.
And the ones that hold the most are the ones sinking furthest under,
their happy sunshine faces fixed in pseudonyms of wonder.
And I'm trying to paint by numbers
but the sea salt has got me blind
and the sea salt has got me choking
and the sea salt has got me bound
And the sea salt is in my ears
And the sea salt is in my throat
How can you expect me to say these words
And then expect me not to choke?
How can you expect the world to support you in your race against time
When you don’t have the courage to judge yourself?
Or put yourself on trial?
And i'm trying to paint by numbers but my palette is cracked and dry
Baked and desiccated by this unforgiving UV light.

credits

from a nursing home, released July 11, 2014
all words and music by the scalding house

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all rights reserved

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The Scalding House Records Birmingham, UK

The Scalding House Records is an independent record label focused on all things noise related. HN, HNW, PE, Noisecore, grindcore, filth and degradation. check out the merch for tapes, CDs and other lovely goodies.

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