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Lightheader

by Lightheader

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1.
How can I seek the spark if I fear the feeling of the heat? Enjoy the taste when I sour on the sweet? Won’t make it through the marathon if I shudder at the sight of the street. Can’t swallow the strong stuff when I’m wasted on the weak. The sun should shine for me. Is the moon gonna pull the tides for me? As the song still shuffles along in time with the same old beat, the soil goes dry around the tree. I ain’t gonna feed the shark because I’m too busy tearing out its teeth. I'd suck the stinger out the back of the bee. The dawn can’t replace the dark if I tell the light to stay behind me. Tonight I’m gonna tell the gods what to believe. The sun should shine for me. Is the moon gonna pull the tides for me? As the song keeps humming along tuned to the wrong frequency, the soil goes dry around the tree. I know the way.
2.
The Garden 02:13
They're patrolling the garden, tasked with picking the weeds. They'll pull up half of the harvest if they don't like the hue, claim: “That's a weed too.” While the garden is growing, the ground gives way to the green, the compost is overflowing with branches that have been deprived of their leaves. Not every seed in the pack gets its hole in the tract. Just because the work is hard and the soil may sometimes need the spade doesn't mean that the gardener should rule by its blade. Keep the pigs in a pen.
3.
Like I lean against the lever. Lift without the pulley. Every axis is the place where the crack is and every fulcrum is fixin’ to break. There’s some water in the airway. There’s some water and it’s filling up the airway, I should drain it but I think I like the taste. The fun is leaving the party soon. Lost and lifted in a living room. The fun is leaving the party soon. I poke and prod at a flower when I want it to bloom. I shouldn’t be laughing, should be licking my wounds. Flipping over the table because I can’t read the room. I hope it’s over soon. I’m a string that's searching for needles to thread myself thru. I’m here. It’s a bit hard to conceive amidst all the beautiful colors of the blooming trees. I’m here. A muted mound of leaves not so well suited for being seen. Molded in the absence of absolutely any identity. I wanna be a novel but I’m bound to be pages with nothing to read.
4.
Dreamless 03:45
Been taping the edges down since last October. Washing out aft to bow with mouthfuls of the sea. You think I don't know how obvious it shows or do you think I just don’t think? The splinters on the fencepost feel relentless, but the swirl of the sky mixes the blue with the pink. There's a callous code, but I'm deciphering the tones. Can't miss the views so I refuse to blink. And the dreamless young dickhead stands with fingers on the butcher block, slicing off every one from the pinkie to the thumb. Now pointing's as pointless as it always was. I laugh so loud I burst the eardrums I try so desperately to march along to. I'd explode if you expose what I don't know. I'm overeager with a round or two. And the dreamless young dickhead stands with fingers on the butcher block, slicing off every one from the pinkie to the thumb. Now counting on himself just cant be done. I know about a raft we can thatch together with bark and branch, make some paddles with the rest of the wood. If it shoulda bore fruit I'd spare it all for you. Starve on an island if you approve. And you can float away with ease. I'll let the fire dwindle, and freeze. Just wave to me while the waves pull you free. The breeze is easy for me to talk to. I make the bed so much that it can't be comfortable. I stir the sauce so long that it'll certainly spoil. I swim to be a fish that matters in the sea, but the world is water, I'm annoying oil.
5.
The Taste 01:47
I could lick the plate until the porcelain thins and breaks but can't describe the taste. I'd tongue the broken bits and let them lodge inside my lips but can't describe the taste. I'd pace the same path until the world splits in half but can't describe the place. I'm wearing my way down with footfalls carving through the ground but can't describe the place. The loss of body is complete. The skin is stretched. The muscle's meat. The eyes are strained beyond their means with only emptiness to see. The next thing comes. The next thing goes. An eroding stone where the garden grows. The water doesn't drain. The wall doesn't separate.
6.
Man alive! It’s a perfect dive right into the shallow end to spit shine all the fucking time because the grime will come back again. And it’s a bad scene as fingers pick and plead with the knots too tight to loosen. Like every grass blade growing in the tower’s shade dreaming of feeling the wind. We're a thoughtless parade storming down the promenade in time with our trampling and all the death in a modern breath fills our lungs and our heads in the end. A path easy. A path appealing.
7.
Ground Fine 02:49
The voice of the victor imparts: “What I wash is clean.” The eyes of the nobleman mark what is worth seeing. If there’s a glare where they’re staring, we’ll see a shortage of shade. In the absence of air or a fair wind we'll breathe the smoke that they made. Belongings for the buyer but not who did the building. The difference in the distance is stark and all encompassing. The lies we believe: Like, “You need a ruler for a straight line. You need a ruler to make a straight line.”
8.
The Water 02:20
Why do we think: “The water runs wetter for me”? What do we see as special in the nights we can't sleep? Played from our station, a plague from our station. Just to prove we are taller we're gonna chop down the tree. We’re gonna give you an offer priced better than free. I'll douse the fire when it burns out. I'll tell you what's right when there ain't no doubt. If I get the sense you're not listening, that's ok baby, I can shout. Look how unique, we're in time with the tapping feet. I shot the liar for running their mouth, but it was all true I just found out. A little late. Made my mistakes, but that's ok because mine don't count. The sound isn't sweet unless we keep the beat. You won't like what you eat without our recipe.

credits

released December 9, 2021

Dominic Armao - Rhythm Guitar, Bass, & Vocals
Cynthia Schemmer - Lead Guitar & Vocals
Dan Edelman - Drums

Recorded, Mixed, and Mastered by Kyle Gilbride

Thanks to Kyle, BJ Howze/Red Planet, Jared Santiago, Jon Rybicki, and Betty Halpenny

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Lightheader Chicago, Illinois

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