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Heartworms

by Heartworms

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1.
Care 03:41
losing feeling in my hands all my limbs stuck in the sand you’d think staying still feels nice not when you’re paralyzed from the eyes down, fixed on the ground trying to move but nothing seems profound please take care of yourself ‘cause no one else will please don’t be so hard on yourself you’re the only thing you’ll always have try this ten more times you’ll be alright, but i can’t say there’s an end in sight i guess it’s worth a try to mend up all my aching joints when my well being’s got me at gunpoint please take care of yourself ‘cause no one else will please don’t be so hard on yourself you’re the only thing you’ll always have
2.
Ceiling 03:40
so you’re off to new york city it seems just to take some photos one of you against graffiti one of streets covered in snow one of angry little people running late so far down below and even though they’re late you can just tell they know exactly where to go it burns your soul ‘cause it’s all you want to know where you’re going it digs a hole time won’t refill stops streams of thought from flowing it cuts the skin and rubs citrus in to see everyone doing their thing so naturally while stuck staring at the ceiling on the top floor out the window wet with dew all these folks around me are looking for a better view there’s nothing here what’s wrong with you just a nagging reminder that nothing is finished and there’s still much left to do it burns your soul ‘cause it’s all you want to know where you’re going it digs a hole time won’t refill stops streams of thought from flowing it cuts the skin and rubs citrus in to see everyone doing their thing so naturally while stuck staring at the ceiling
3.
gotta find a way to keep you around i’m stuck to the ground, and nothing else moves me it’s like i’m fully colorblind it’s all black and white until you shed some light this point of view’s so inconvenient i like that you can help me see it turn the dimmer down i think that i can get around it’s all laid out in front of my face can you help me translate you’re my rosetta stone (you wrote the language i’m having trouble speaking) and i know these skills are something i should hone (i’m locked up but can’t seem to find the key) but everything i see (i see crawls back unfamiliarly) becomes foreign to me (i just can’t recognize anything) this point of view’s so inconvenient i like that you can help me see it turn the dimmer down i think that i can get around this point of view’s so parasitic i keep trying to snuff the critic but their voice just keeps growing loud and surrounding me i need to find something to clear my head to stop thinking it’d be best if i was dead keep the dimmer down i’ll find a way to get around
4.
arrive or depart? as i pull up i try to tell them apart who else is leaving to find another place to run away? goodbyes and warm remarks cut short by the rush to embark it seems you’re always called to leave after you choose to stay eight hours ‘til a dreaded or hopeful start eight days ‘til a broken or mended heart but time and date only matter until you’re at the gate new surroundings won’t change your insides only finding trouble when you’re looking for joyrides miles in the air, but still staring at your shoes ‘cause taking off takes your baggage with you you owe it to yourself to decompress realize the pain is part of the process enjoy the dream before you’re woken up by the alarm sure, you’ve got a place to rest sure, you’ve got a place to get undressed but i don’t think this escape did as much good as it did you harm eight days didn’t clear your head eight hours ‘til you’re back in bed the escape is a temporary great that sure has lost its charm new surroundings won’t change your insides only finding trouble when you’re looking for joyrides miles in the air, but still staring at your shoes ‘cause taking off takes your baggage with you all the words we left unsaid still keep collecting lint inside our jacket pockets trying to think of things to say i won’t regret but i’ll still see them again all my problems, all my friends can’t seem to think of all the ways to write the end i’ll just repeat myself again i think i need to drop the pen
5.
Matador 03:05
i know i’m just a speck in your life but you’ve left a deep, bold stain in mine bleeding through the high thread count more saturated than red wine i’ve driven track a thousand times before i’m only programmed in one direction can’t tell what’s around me anymore following the red in front of me i’m the bull, and you’re the matador i’ve always seen you as my pace car but i need to see this sans the metaphor
6.
feet failing, flailing on the ground falling over your own shoes fast towards some comforting sound or a logical excuse found yourself running around in circles tripping over your own roots hey now, what makes you think you know what’s best for you? face planted firmly in the floor flattened by the weight of your stress hard pressed for a brighter future but having trouble seeing through this mess found yourself pulled apart at every end by commitments you can’t choose hey now, why are you playing all the games you do? you gotta play one way or the other but you’ve gotta say when we’re doing it wrong if our voice is always drowned out what’s the point of even singing along? you can’t fix holes you dig without them being dug up by your actions again the asphalt filling the cracks in the sidewalk is still uprooted in the end

credits

released September 20, 2019

Nina Anyayahan - vox/guitar
Matt Sturgis - vox/guitar
Travis Wheeler - bass guitar
Nate Torres - drums

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Beauty Fool Records Barcelona, Spain

Art is hard.
We love hard things.

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