1. |
||||
|
So you flipped over the nothingness
Just to jump into the waters of the well
Once you’re half way down
Turn and take a look towards the sky
Where lilies are blowing in the wind
Determined never to hit the ground again
So let me wrap up your heart
I’ll follow you back into the war
And once the water freeze and the fishes die
We can go and skate on the ice
And if you like we can head back to
The old ghost town and fall in love once more
I plan to run out of darkness before the end
So let us swim through the droplets again
And never think about the bottom of the well
|
||||
2. |
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 soldier
Bleeding out in a pool of memories
Delirious about the after act
I know someone should go and tell him
That those pages have 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
|
||||
3. |
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 its 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
|
||||
4. |
Song For Palmer
03:57
|
|||
|
She never told me what it was that ate through her brain
Was she afraid of what it might change
As she torn her dark purple dress apart
There she goes
She’s leaving with my world
O, there she goes
She’s leaving with my world
She was born on the first day of spring
She has a lamp of adjustable light
She’s beyond beautiful
That’s all you need to know
She used to starve among the sleep
She was once made to wait in the snow covered park
I never played any tunes for her
So how could she ever remember me
As someone who did his best to prove what her affection meant
O, I wish I could tell her this
You can always count your friends
If you want to know how far you are from the edge
Remember this
Remember this
|
||||
5. |
St. Petersburg
02:31
|
|||
|
Lover, lover, lover
Did your world change as it changed here
In the suburbs where nothing moves except for the tears
I have a double exposed picture of you in the snow
And now that you’re free of my lame interpretations
O, St Petersburg will you be my home
I’m all surrounded here but there is nothing beautiful
And on the days where I can’t go on I turn to time
And I let my blood cells and the entire universe figure out
How the hell I’m supposed to get by
And now that I’m sending empty envelopes to the one who resent my words
O, St. Petersburg will you be my home
I’m all surrounded now but there is nothing beautiful here
|
||||
6. |
||||
|
I was standing there by the water’s edge
Waiting for the ferryman
But I was one coin short from buying my way out
I should have asked for more when I went to pawn you ballet shoes
Just give me a moment to catch my breath
And I’ll be with you as soon as I’m ready to exist
O, father, father I must confess
It was I who contaminated the fountain of youth
It was out of fear of never seeing
The lead coloured sky change its shape
Just give me a moment to catch my breath
And I’ll be with you as soon as I’m ready to exist
O, father who do you think is standing there
Keeping on the lights on the other side
I think it’s a nine winged angel who’s just hanging out
Looking to pick a fight with everyone that passes by
Just give me a moment to catch my breath
And I’ll be with you as soon as I’m ready to exist
So the next time I’m standing there by the water’s edge
I only hope to be so deep in love
That I’ve forgotten what I came here for
|
||||
7. |
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
|
||||
8. |
Sulfur Fields
04:46
|
|||
|
I’ve come to think the sun only rise
Rise to see if you and I are still sighing in its light
I’m waiting for this feeling to corrode
See the surrealist is painting her desert with rust
Don’t get up dear, I’m just here to glue my blood to your scorching sand
I’m waiting, I’m waiting in sulfur fields
Where we sang our secret songs
I’m waiting, waiting, waiting in sulfur fields
Where we sang our secret songs
I lit a fire in the dry woods, did you see the smoke?
In shine or in rain the flames remains the same
It’s been burning for a year
Something dropped in water
It sank and sank
Beneath it all, the mind I lost
I’m a barbed wire wall crumpling to the sound
Of a thousand trumpets
I wait and wait in sulfur fields
Where we sang our secret songs
Where we danced and laughed and lived alike
Where we drank and loved and lost
Where we walked around with broken limbs
Where are tortured souls they flick on the yellow candle wax
Where we sang out secret songs
I wait, I wait in sulfur fields
in sulfur fields, in sulfur fields, in sulfur fields, in sulfur fields
|
||||
9. |
Inconsistent Rain
05:26
|
|||
|
Do you really think the stone you tossed was the first one?
And do you really think that this is my first spring filled to the brim with carnage?
Would it help to ask again, put on a smile and say yes?
Did you find what you were looking for at the place of rot and regrowth?
Did you remember that we are bound to carry everything we lose along the way?
To whom did you build your altar of lemon tree branches and satellite debris?
And are you sacrificing a scarred heart of gentleness at the late hour ceremony?
Would it help to ask again, put on a smile and say yes?
Tell me, what are you holding in your burning hands, another punch of salt?
And did you hide your hundred knives between the lake and the moon?
What do you think lies by the end of the lane?
Another thorny wilderness or a final hill to make?
Are you telling yourself it was a hand of intervention that struck us down on the patio?
Would it help to ask again?
What do you think the poet meant by showing the crickets to the crowd one last time?
And how do you plan to tell it like it is, with your newfound illusion that time stands still?
And now you want to know who I light my candles for?
And now you want to know why my silver cross is gone?
I could tell you but
Don’t expect a shelter for the inconsistent rain
Once it starts to fall
It will drench you to the bone
|
||||
10. |
(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 I can almost laugh
I’m the Salt King with an 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
At the dying waves of the small weary hearts
I’m the Salt King and the fox caught me gazing
At the dying waves of the small weary 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
If you like Denni Ian, you may also like:
Six Million Miles From Nowhere
by Spaceman
As Spaceman, Stephen Munson of UK cult band Living In Texas makes lo-fi pop that shuffles and stomps.
go to album
A dark folk debut from Montreal’s Brigitte Naggar.
go to album
The enigmatic Frank Ene's solo record lives in a magical world where Serge Gainsbourg fronts Yellow Magic Orchestra.
go to album
Sometimes It Starts Again
by Louvre Doors
Wry and tender indie pop from Scotland with winsome melodies and coy lyrics that is endlessly winning.
go to album
Live In... New York City
by Tex Crick
Australian artist Tex Crick takes a low-key, 70s singer-songwriter approach to his latest collection of songs.
go to album
Songs for Pierre Chuvin
by the Mountain Goats
Surprise! "Songs for Pierre Chuvin" is the first all-boombox Mountain Goats album since 2002's "All Hail West Texas"
go to album
Proceeds from the alternative artist's latest album will go to Puerto Rico’s True Self Foundation.
go to album
