The curses run down my walls into the carpet and when it's soaked we drag it out onto the street.
You keep smoking like a chimney on fire, hovering over my head while I try to read.
I sent men to fight for me before the wealthy houses so I could stay home sticking needles in my leg.
I held you closer than my closest enemy. Now I curse your name incessantly.
This is not a war when no one's getting rich. We put it on ice as if we're begging for it: Curses and curses and curses. All of our purses overflow with curses.
That fucking cat died and it won't stop dying. It lives in your hair and your eyes and it's thriving. Flightless birds keep on arriving, stalking me and walking just out of my reach, waiting for the end of time where we can die happy on that golden comode of mine. We'll die high on our curses. Every new verse is smothered in curses.
from at Nantasket Beach!
released October 15, 2015
John Manson - Vocals
Dan Madri - Guitar, Synth
Isabel Riley - Bass, Vocals
Ernie Kim - Drums
Recorded and mixed by Doug Demay
Lyrics by John Manson
Music by Dan Madri and John Manson
all rights reserved