Little Red Lung

by Little Red Lung

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1.
03:45
2.
04:33
3.
03:46
4.
03:49
5.
6.

about

Produced, Recorded and Mixed by Ali Nikou at Blaster Master Productions

Mastered by Reuben Cohen at Lurssen Mastering

credits

released 20 March 2012

Album Artwork by Sarah Sitkin

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all rights reserved

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Track Name: 50 Fingers
If you were a diamond I would dig you up
And use you to cut
These belt straps from my feet
They've been tightening for weeks
I can move my little toe and if I concentrate
In a day or two I could move more
In a day or two I could be air-bound

You play the game like no one's watching
Please wake up, please wake up
There's three inside the next apartment
Please get up, please get up

Your lungs are getting lazy dear
I'll squeeze the water out
But I can't hold your pelvis up from the ground
You're on your own now

You play the game like no one's watching
Please wake up, please wake up
There's three inside the next apartment
Please get up, please get up
For every inch there's 50 fingers pointing back
Your gold balloons nor sincere face will take you back
Track Name: Ink Blot
The weight inside a picture frame
Not nearly salvaged as the blade
That cuts the maps and figure eights
To occupy that little space

Your better half is on parade
Internal organ pop-up display
A star is just as deadly as the day

We've been relying on ink blot test
Tethering white silhouettes

Oh avalanche, you're wasting your time
Come hell or high water I wont die
If there's a blood stain in the road
I can't help the innuendo
I can't help the innuendo

You think that you're a storm cloud in heat
Vertebrae a thousand daggers deep
The wet air cracks your mouth to speak
From battle line's long suffering
In worn custody burning the seeds

We've been relying on ink blot test
Tethering white silhouettes
Track Name: Rare Bird
A glass airplane, circles over every jaw looking up
Fear of a name, cursive in the porous spots

And if you are a rare bird, build me into what you need

These wings, could skin the surface of a hundred knees
We are, plummeting down aboard this raging star

The heir to close calls, pet names and punctuation
False so often, painted red on every wall
Your bones so thin, a hairline fracture in the wind
A heart full of butter knives and paper bricks

And if you are a rare bird, build me into what you need

These wings, could skin the surface of a hundred knees
Sharp feet, propellers restless and two tons of meat
We are, plummeting down aboard this raging star
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Track Name: Fangs
I buried your fangs in the heart of a deep well
Your mouth was on fire and bone sore
I know you dug for years below the ground

You shouldn't be wild inside if you're a beast in the headlights

In an instant your predator hands reached to the throat
I knew you were waiting to die the whole time
Your legs they swung for hours in semi-spires

You shouldn't be wild inside if you're a beast in the headlights
Track Name: Into a Landfill
It must have been a scratch under the film
Of the magnifying glass
If I were able to see the dirt
Under your nails, I would have stopped the press

I shred it all into a landfill
So stop asking me

Your irises have roots before they hit the ground

All the letters start with "dear" and "if you could" and "I'm so sorry"
They spotted you collecting dust
From index toe to string

I shred it all into a landfill
So stop asking me

You look like an arrow

Your irises have roots before they hit the ground
Track Name: Strangling Tree
Marble jaw, strangling tree
Palms wet, red teeth
You touch down like trouble
Rolling in on four feet
Blurry eyed and double vision
Laughing in the dead heat

Shrieking bell, hanging rope
Waist side, high hopes
Your legs flew like ribbons
Tied you to a deep rock
Their beaks hover 'round us
Waiting for the big drop