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DEMO

by WIRE LINES

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1.
Hi. How are you feeling? Are you dealing with the heat? It never ends. The wound's not healing. Hot air shimmers on the street. Cut the sky with fork and knife and stack it, back behind the shed, or choke it down 'til it becomes you, if you'd rather that instead. Let the day decay, and flies replace the wind as buzzing clouds descend. We're speaking thoughts aloud again. The pendulum swings free from its base. The clock is losing face. You can drown or die of thirst. Nothing goes to waste. Hi. How are you feeling? Are you coping with the cold? It never ends. The world's not healing, and the moon is looking old. I have quit my job I'm working now for the city, for the people. Lighting fires, burning houses out of pity for the people. Let the day decay, and snow can fill the wind as iron clouds descend. We're voicing fears aloud again. Nothing goes to waste. Yes it may be poison, but just a little taste. Nothing goes to waste
2.
Leaves 02:50
These are millennial times. What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine. Desiccant fruit on a desiccant vine, these are millennial times. When I was younger I had everything. Now, all I have left is a little song that I sing. I sing: "We are leaves, and we’re washed out by the rain." The waves are gnawing at the shore, by the house on the seaside side of the dam. We can't ignore it anymore. The waves are gnawing at the shore. The dogs are leaving by the score. They left the dockyard in the night, refugees of our new war. The dogs are leaving by the score. We are leaves, and we’re washed out by the rain; we are leaves, and we’re washed out by the rain.
3.
They make the road and you run a river through it. They write the book, you put fire to the page. They throw the party and you hide the invitations, and if accused you find someone it’s safe to blame. What is the song we hear, slipping through the alleys? What is the banner you are raising to the sky? What have you learned from all the sacrifice we went through? What is the anthem sung with voices hoarse and dry? You sing the songs of your idiot fathers. You fly the flag of your bigoted mothers. You haven’t learned a thing in two hundred years. You sing the songs of your idiot fathers.
4.
Filing away and working with saws, I'm pulling the bars from the cell. Spoon to the stone, I'm working alone. I want it done right and done well. In silence and dark, no need for a spark of light as I've no need to see. I stick to my plans. I'm using my hands. Determined to get myself free. Am I digging graves in gardens? Am I building tombs today? Be careful what you wish for. Be careful what you say. I let myself down, I drop to the ground and make my escape in the night. Assemble my tools and wrought iron bars. I'll build a new cage when it's light. The sun starts to rise, adjusting my eyes. My new prison coming together. I sweat 'til I bleed. It's all that I need. The skin on my hands is like leather. And I don't speak of sorrow. I never even think it. I'll sail this boat tomorrow as fast as I can sink it.
5.
Volume 02:12
Volume is a weapon, and sound fills space like a volume of water floods this place. Two separate meanings can both share a word. Volume fills space and volume gets heard. Now I hear the sound and I feel the weight, and I want to leave but it is much too late; and I want to argue but I am not free. Jericho's walls have nothing on me. Ionic bonds start to pull apart. Rhythm beats blood, beating beating hearts. There is empty space only in silent rooms. Death is silence on a stage of tombs. As the din of waves makes it hard to hear, as the weight of sound fills my fragile ears, like the candle burns as it disappears so we count our days, so we count our years. I'm going to shake, shake, shake and fall apart.
6.
Thorns 02:20
Look into my eyes: it's elephant thorns. In the middle of the room it's elephant thorns. Hole in your side, it's elephant thorns. You were warned, you were warned. Now the best laid plans are a tangled mess, and the hole in your logic meets the hole in your chest. Mark the missing time with a watch in your vest. You were warned, you were warned. Though you got it wrong on the first try you still refused to plan ahead. Winter's here. The well has run dry. It's blood for wine and bone for bread. Dance around the truth like the floor is aflame, with these termites burrowing into your name. Play for second place but this isn't a game. You were warned, you were warned. Elephant thorns planted into your lungs, and you scramble for the ladder but it's missing the rungs. Arsenic and water on the rocks. The song is written and sung.

credits

released March 8, 2019

Ryan Parker: bass
Jeremy Medeiros: guitar
Ted Ilsley: drums
Kevin Grant: vocals

All songs by WIRE LINES. All lyrics by Kevin Grant.
Recorded February 24th, 2019 by Trevor Vaughan @ The Colosseum.

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WIRE LINES New Bedford, Massachusetts

Wire Lines channel their urgent, hook-laden brand of alt rock through the lens of the hardcore punk on which they cut their teeth. That sensibility shines through not only in the brevity and ferocity of their music, but in their blatant disregard for convention. Each new sound complements the last, weaving a remarkably cohesive musical tapestry that is as inventive as it is refreshing. ... more

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