1. |
Lager Door
03:01
|
|||
|
Oh sick
Morning is apocalyptic
And you miss
When all you wanted was
Love from a distance
It tugs and tears
Until the world is bare and
The naked day parades
I held you in a strange place
But your appreciation lay like the sun across my face
Raw revelation in split seconds of grace
And if All those were days of gold
At the time we just didn’t know
Walked around like bashful ghosts
Sweat all summer under my famous green raincoat
Stay up late, watch the news, practice weird ironic dance moves
If those were years of gold no-one told me and you
Do you think of me
As a set of stone formations
A constellation
Something held in space unchanging
A distant beacon, A blister bleeding
Dry dirt receiving thirstily
Swelling in heat like mercury
A time and a place that you’re glad that you caught until
It constrains the perspective on
A friendship you mourn still
If those were days of gold
At the time we didn’t know
Waiting for your wings to grow
You were going to fly all the way to Tokyo
Nothing stops you nothing scares you
I try my best to meet you there
If those were days of gold no we didn’t care
With your touch I have become obsessed
My head is delicate
From the top of the stairs I can still smell the sweat
We are Miraculous freak accidents
We are blessed
Nothing matters, think about sex yes
There is a chaos that only comes
To every living thing once
Indifferent to your unmade connections
Then in a second is gone
If those were days of gold
At the time we didn’t know
What crystallised in brittle snow was always going to
Melt back in to the heat and smoke
And me I pray out loud
It’s basically all I do now
Those were days of gold I just found out
|
||||
2. |
Jupiter Pluvius
03:08
|
|||
|
Jupiter pluvius flood me with all good shit
Give me ecstatic fits of dance amid the catatonic monoliths
He’s one of the pantheon
Fucks like a champion
And when the sun comes back out everything will be different
Water underneath bridges like
Milk in the morning
A wilted flaccid sacrament
Your crouching cruciate Form
Then with your arms outstretched
Loving him half to death
Now buried deep in days between
and crucial hours underneath
They told me not to lock myself indoors with you
But I was feeling kind of shaky like I needed some kind of proof
Cassiopeia, Ursa Major, your face appearing in cracked brick formations
But oh no you’re cold all over
oh no you’re cold all over
Jupiter pluvius flood me with all good shit
Give me ecstatic fits of dance amid the catatonic monoliths
He’s one of the pantheon
Fucks like a champion
And when the sun comes back out everything will be
Better lesser heresies like these
another winter week a
sea where all these rivers and their tributaries meet
The water I am carried on the grasping hands of angry gods
Pulling cake out of my chest
To turn back into dirt again because
I am neither I am both
And I’m each one on their own and
Run between dead buildings radiating halos
Cassiopeia, Ursa Major, your face appearing in rock formations like god in
Lost objects no blood, bone or body
Memory clings to gifts like we never wanted
Jupiter pluvius flood me with all good shit
Give me ecstatic fits of dance amid the catatonic monoliths
He’s one of the pantheon
Fucks like a champion
And when the sun comes back everything will be different
I will be the life and death
Of this party yet
I will be the life and death
Of this party yet
Jupiter pluvius Flood me with all good shit
Give me ecstatic fits of dance amid the catatonic monoliths
I like it when it’s bright and cold
Biting the dirt of a bright burning autumn oh
A celebration Of things gone before their time
And the difficult unlovable things the light eventually finds
|
||||
3. |
Sacred Cancer
03:13
|
|||
|
Grief it never came to me in a straight line
The days go disordered, all come at once or never arrive
I inhale the hot, gorgeous august dust
Morning flower fumes, clouds of car exhaust
Breathing out the dissembled December nights
I first heard the fear in your voice on the phone
I want these things to align but they don’t
The closeness in the costume of your clothes
Anchored to a place now that’s stuck in time
Bounce the hallowed walls of the freezer aisle
Sit with meat in bombed out cathedrals all night
I can feel cold calm sea water
All of that exhausted anger
All the rage and expectation
All you stupid, sacred cancer yeah
Punch the nothingness, acts of punctuation
A punctured and fast deflating thing
Breathing out until we are all empty skin
I’m an obsolete war machine, I’m extremely glad to be here
I’m glad but the fantasy, it just wasn’t deep enough still
I’ve just got this one big emotion I drag behind me now everywhere I go
Slip between days, they fall away from me
See the future but cannot change a thing
5am somewhere, you remember me
Morning, it’s the first of the century
Nothing gets to drift frictionless through the world
I still feel cold calm sea water
All of that exhausted anger
All the rage and expectation
All you stupid, sacred cancer yeah
Worlds constricting as if strangled
All things twist and split and fracture
Things all seem to fall apart while
History’s assembled backwards
Turns out I am a frightened animal
I will run now until my heart explodes
I wait for a song frozen in my throat
I wait for some kind of great lightning bolt
That makes me want to tear down all the pieces of heaven
That I can grab in my shaking fist
From the darkest part of a star-starved sky
I have seen the band of unwavering light
I have watched the garden descend into wilds
I am no longer raging and terrified
I no longer feel like I am just a child
|
||||
4. |
Toilet of Venus
03:34
|
|||
If you like ME REX, you may also like:
Please Don't Take Me Back
by Martha
supported by 33 fans who also own “Plesiosaur”
Local legends who deserve all the success they can possibly get!
go to album
The Summer I Got Good At Guitar
by Fresh
supported by 27 fans who also own “Plesiosaur”
Absolute perfect track. Finds its way on repeat quite a bit.
go to album
supported by 26 fans who also own “Plesiosaur”
saw this live when they were performing with Jeff Rosenstock. The Goosebumps from seeing the pure emotion in the finale was so raw and passionate. it made me appreciate being able to attend live music again!
go to album
1990s-era indie-folk sounds back songs about love and identity on this project from the Florida-based artist.
go to album
Punchy pop-rock from Perth that balances gritty guitar work with wry hooks.
go to album
A hushed and low-lit EP from this Melbourne musician, where dreamlike melodies drift across a bed of tender guitar.
go to album
supported by 23 fans who also own “Plesiosaur”
I struggle to capture the varied and distinctive influences/styles throughout this fucking treasure. Love/hurt and nail-biters have been on repeat for a good one or three hours and I don't intend on deviating from this plan.
go to album
