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Take no more than eight words to panic
Wake slowly. You’re breathing. You’re breathing
Green and blue look very strange from out here
Look at me. I’m dying. I’m dying
Facts and figures fill my every pore until I’m no longer naked
Chemically of perfect humour, cost-effective, better balanced
Raze my cloak until I'm between alive and asphyxiating
Rickety and unaware of what behoves my name and race
So grab your things and put them in pockets
Oh you’re a perfect equilibrium of fierce chemicals
Barbarians in a holy war; a sudden death; a revolution
What became of music? What became of all I held so dear?
A small but vital cog in evolutionary metamorphosis
Take with you your good cheer and heartache
released 21 August 2012
Music by Mark Broughton, Matt Hardy and Ben Helm.
Lyrics by Mark Broughton.
Produced by Mark Broughton and Mick Ross.
Recorded by Mark Broughton and Thom Lewis.
Mixed by Mick Ross.
Mastered by Streaky.
℗ & © Tessera Skies 2012.
all rights reserved