1. |
Glow
03:31
|
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|
Somewhere underneath the shame and pride,
Dissolves a small belief, in what I've tried to control, to derive,
From broken clocks, and tapered lines inside the mold.
Unlike the glow, in here,
Am I not real?
Save my mind,
Receive my heart,
And let me go.
I know, sweet life,
If you were nothing but chaos through a stray window,
I made it more.
Warm red, illuminate,
And grow, with every wake,
Of mind and soul;
Spread through the dark,
And carry on.
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2. |
20 70
05:08
|
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A check for the locks, the booze and bread.
A check for the glue when my heart caves in,
And a check for God, to cure my sins-- I'm done,
Being a lonely pawn.
We are born, to find and cross the line,
We are born to observe the ride-- I know,
We are born to rectify our love,
If we still have enough.
The notion's a loss, fraught with tribal design,
The notion's the culprit, a space confined,
It's a frantic mob,
An idealized despair.
Can the concourse revive, to feel on our own,
Venture outside, the walls we roam,
Surrender our pain, if it breaks the divide,
Before the gloam,
Before the night.
The free run,
While the youthful turn,
To the silent call,
To a steady burn,
While the kingdom slept,
The forgotten died,
And the free had run,
While the youthful turned,
To the silent call,
To a steady burn,
Every servant wept,
As they realized.
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The Lymbs Oakland, California
When searching for the purpose of any artistic endeavor, what you find may either be elusive, or blatantly obvious. The indie rock band The Lymbs seem to fit somewhere in the middle. Their songs differentiate in texture and form, but stay true to a theme fueled by their classic upbringing, and a love for the art. ... more
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