1. |
Here, In Absence
04:21
|
|||
Somewhere out there in the tall grass roams Helen of Troy
I don’t know what she is searching for
There’s nothing out there but the dismantled gallows
I’ve been plowing these fields forever now
While humming the song of the late lady of the lighthouse
But nothing ever sprouts but the poison roots
It must be due to the fading halos and leaking crowns
It must be due to
The decaying devils in the ground
The fading halos and leaking crowns
And far away on a distant battlefield lies a solider
Bleeding out in a pool of memories
Delirious about the after act
I know, someone should go tell him
That those pages has been torn out and replaced
With fading halos and leaking crowns
And do I believe that they will meet again
Sometime on the surface of a distant sun
I’m sorry I must go now
Take care of the fading halos and the leaking crowns
|
||||
2. |
So This Is How We Dance
04:57
|
|||
A scent of lime lies like grinding stones in my lungs
And I won’t ever pray for the strength to cough it up
I think it takes an imaginary god
To understand this notion of love
So this is how we dance
Like two figures once in love
Like two figures searching for a way to be alone
I’ll soon need the gravity of longing to ease it’s grip on me
So I can float up above the flowerbed
Where I was told the name I carve into to all that I make
And where the ants outnumber everything else
So this is how we dance
Like two figures once in love
Like two figures searching for a way to be alone
I miss to stare into your marbled eyes
So if you ever come around
Come and see me at the sawmill
I’ll be there for the sunday knife fight
I miss your marbled eyes
So this is how we dance
Like two figures once in love
Like two figures searching for
|
||||
3. |
Two Figures
04:03
|
|||
I was told not to mope about ghosts
But don't they know that I'm just a child
I'm fighting off the fiends under the bed
Don't they know I'm made of fake gold and woes
I'm treading waters in black shiny shoes
At the bottom of everything that kills us slow
At the bottom of your love
At the bottom of your love
Two veiled lovers kissing in a gold frame on the blue wall
It's not a metaphor
It's the colour she adores
I don't believe in the wrong path
But everything seems like a dead end in the absence
I'm treading waters in black shiny shoes
At the bottom of everything that kills us slow
At the bottom of your love
At the bottom of your love
So go and fetch my crowbar and break me
You break me, break me, just break me open
Let's find the location of the soul
Cause I want it to show even though it's out of fashion
I'm treading waters in black shiny shoes
At the bottom of everything that kills us slow
At the bottom of your love
At the bottom of your love
|
||||
4. |
(Salt King) 0>1
04:19
|
|||
They said the hangman was rising dust
when he ran screaming
it's either me or God
this world is immeasurable and I can’t take it anymore
i’m gonna find myself a spot
where I can black out
well, I heard he knew what happened to the crow that buried the sparrow in its red woolen coat
I wonder if it took off from the balcony on its rain wet wings
or became a victim to bad taxidermy
now standing on the shelfs among the rusty curiosities
of the pawnbroker of grief
and me I’m the Salt King
I’m in a club where only those without fathers are allowed
we throw batteries in the Walden pond
flirting and fucking with the heavy rain
I’m the Salt King living in a shoe box
with all the other relics of uncertainty
there’s a ghost cube resonating like a music box
and a mad suicide pact with the lord
I can almost cry and can almost laugh
I’m the Salt King with a epitaph from the past
stating divide the light in half
I’m the Salt King and I’ll one day go to lie down in the dew
I just have to find the meadow where the black stag from the dark room goes
but for now I’ll stay with the crow on the beach
collecting time in a jar that I can one day waste
and the year is ending and the flies are in the streets
buzzing with anger though they should be thrilled
and I know you never really sleep
please make a sign if you can hear me
I’m the Salt King and the fox caught me gazing a the dying waves of the small wary hearts
I’m the Salt King and the fox caught me gazing a the dying waves of the small wary hearts
I’m the Salt King and the hangman told me hold on to it all
I’m the Salt King and the hangman told me to hold on
not getting dissolved in the stomach of the underwhelming dark
there is no end and there is no beginning here
so in this precious in between
can I hold your hand?
|
Denni Ian Copenhagen, Denmark
Danish multidisciplinary artist Denni Ian explores the murky waters of uncertainty. His confessions come together in an artful composition of considered expressionism and traditional songwriting. Threads of folk, punk and lo-fi rock are woven together into poetic meditations that reach out across the unknown in search of connection." ... more
Streaming and Download help
If you like Denni Ian, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp