1. |
Burnt at the Stake
03:52
|
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|
i hate
who i’ve become
i wouldn’t suggest it
to anyone
i’ve tied myself up
to a ball and chain
by still being mad at those
who have caused me pain
don’t
don’t burn me at
at the stake
don’t
don’t burn me at
at the stake
my spine
fell out my back
a while ago
i buried the bones
in a barrow
you are my weakness
you are my secret
your touch burns
and for you, i, yearn
don’t
don’t burn me at
at the stake
don’t
don’t burn me at
at the stake
will you kill me
release my brooding greed
i’ll feed off my own agony
will you kill me
release my brooding pain
i’ll purge myself of
everything i hate
dont
don’t burn me at
at the stake
don’t
don’t burn me at
at the stake
you made a mistake
this ain’t my fate
don’t burn me
don’t burn me
at the stake
|
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2. |
Virgin Mary
02:01
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|
i was made to be weak
and that’s what i am
he is my shepard and
i am his lamb
i was made to be in pain
that’s what i’ll endure
give birth to your sons
premature
be the virign mary
be the lamb to the slaughter
he said you can’t loose your innocence
or you’ll have nothing left to offer
i was made to be felt
and that’s what you did
you wanted me
you couldn’t resist
my lithuanian breeding hips
would my ancestors
be proud of this
be the virgin mary
be the lamb to the slaughter
he said you can’t loose your innocence
or you’ll have nothing left to offer
why do i have to suffer
to be fucking respected
being a woman is a wound
that keeps getting infected
be the virgINNN mary
be the lamb to the slaughter
you can’t loose your innocence
or you’ll have nothing left to offer
|
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3. |
Field Crow
01:26
|
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|
i’ve grown feathers
my nails rot off
my fingers
and i’ve grown talons
i become a field crow
i flew down to ask you a riddle
throw the weakest
out of the nest
pluck the feathers
from my breast
i’m the mother
in distress
i’m the daughter
you’ll detest
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
throw the weakest
out of the nest
pluck the feathers
from my breast
i’m the mother
in distress
i’m the daughter
you’ll detest
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
|
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4. |
Plague
02:19
|
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|
i grew up as a peasant
in 17th century France
i’m not as diseased or
quite as weak as you
think i am
damp itchy skin
putting oil in my lamp
sneaking out to find
my old man
my ribs feel tough
and i feel rough
i think i have the plague
i feel worse and worse everyday
i think i have the plague
my feet are swollen
fingers numb
sweaty skin
heavy lungs
my arms ache
and i feel the weight
my womanhood
of my fate
my ribs feel tough
and i feel rough
i think i have the plague
i feel worse and worse
everyday
i think i have the plague
how much more pain can i take
i think i have the plague
how much more until i break
i think i have the plague
i
think
i
have
the
plagueeeeeeeee
|
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5. |
Disgust
01:41
|
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|
you’re flinching
at my trauma
it hides starved and damaged
in the corner
i wanna rip it
out of me
before it breeds
with your greed
drape your hide
onto a tree
once it’s dried
sew it onto me
i fall apart
he ties me in knots
the needle starts to rust
the thread starts to rot
|
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6. |
Fever
02:21
|
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|
i’ve been bitten
i’m ridden
with disease
in the blistering heat
i never learn
from my history
there’s a fever rattling in my chest
there’s a fever rattling in my chest
there’s a fever rattling in my chest
it won’t rest
teeth bared
hackles raised
i was bred to hate
through my abdominal pain
hack it up
spit it out
right into the mouth
there’s a fever rattling in my chest
there’s a fever rattling in my chest
there’s a fever rattling in my chest
it won’t rest
don’t shake my hand
that fateful summer
we hold tightly
onto each other
famine babies
sit in the wombs of starving mothers
i don’t wanna die
don’t make me suffer
there’s a fever rattling in my chest
there’s a fever rattling in my chest
there’s a fever rattling in my chest
it won’t rest
it won’t rest
it won’t rest
it won’t rest
|
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7. |
Wrot
01:28
|
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|
mother father
i would rather
kill myself then marry that man
i’d rather be dead
then spinning thread
and cursing young women
a part of me
has already died
i’ll throw away
the flesh that resides
i’ll become
the mud and earth
the dirt and grime
is all I’m worth
rotting rotting rotting
in the dirt
through the crook
and over the clea barrow
through a molehill
and a mouse-hole
a part of me
has already died
i’ll throw away
the flesh that resides
i’ll become
the mud and earth
the dirt and grime
is all I’m worth
rotting rotting rotting
in the dirt
rotting rotting rotting rotting
rotting rotting rotting rotting
|
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wych elm Bristol, UK
bristol’s three-piece wych elm play scrappy, menacing and contemplative grungy indie rock with a touch of the macabre.
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