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These New Puritans
These New Puritans


Информация
Откуда Southend-on-Sea, England
Жанры Art Rock
Годы 2006—н.в.
Лейблы Domino Records
Angular Recording Corporation
Сайт Website
Состав
Jack Barnett
Thomas Hein
Sophie Sleigh-Johnson
George Barnett



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Альбом These New Puritans


Hidden (18.01.2010)
18.01.2010
1.
Time Xone
2.
3.
Three Thousand
4.
5.
Attack Music
6.
Fire-Power
7.
8.
Canticle
9.
Drum Courts-Where Corals Lie
10.
11.
. . .

Time Xone

[Нет текста]

. . .


Some of these trees have been growing for years
the leaves on the floor must be five metres deep
the paths are a labyrinth or even a trap
some tides don't turn some things never come back.

Secret recordings were made in the marsh
I bore a hole in the tree just to see
Knights dance in molecules, here's Gallahad
They're rising back up, they're rising back up.

Shadows dance back up, it's happening again
If you listen carefully you might hear them whisper:
"We hold all the secrets, we hold all the words; but they're scrambled and broken so you'll never know"

(And that the Thames flows beneath the grass…)
Can't you see them floating like black ash?
Can't you feel them crawling down your back?
Can't you feel them breathing down your neck?
Sea breeze, sea breeze.

. . .

Three Thousand

[Нет текста]

. . .


Shut the door, shut the door
because I'm staying here.
The world might disappear under blankets of snow.

"Anne!"
There's a wonderful word that you will liken it to
but it's caught in the back of your mind though.

Okay,
and some will say "to you will go the world"
Shut the door because I disagree.
And Memnon sighs relief.
Some circles you can't leave.

. . .

Attack Music

[Нет текста]

. . .

Fire-Power

[Нет текста]

. . .


Remote places where we'll go.
Without a doubt
I don't think the stars are symbols.
But let's find out.
And here we go
up
into the
stars.

Inside the pyramid, deeper in it,
hidden exit after Osiris.
All the stars are swords, I've never been so sure.

But 'til then we'll be hanging on the wall,
all our faces will be boomerangs hanging on the wall.
All the trees started to walk and all the rivers started to talk,
but only through digital manipulation.

. . .

Canticle

[Нет текста]

. . .

Drum Courts-Where Corals Lie

[Нет текста]

. . .


Frames of colour litter the bracken, regal and strange.

Through the broken plastic a canal;
The platform heaves like a human body, divide by two.
'X' marks the spot or it sometimes means 'No'
Frames of colour flicker between ancient and brand new.

I've got white cords running through my body
And the fur of a white cat on my back
But you see you gave him black wool and we have a black cat.

Beneath the peering dead trees I walked back.
"Respect the invisible", "I can't respect what's not there"; I avoided you.
Sloping concrete becomes a shoulder (words inscribed in the air).
Frames of colour litter the bracken, regal and strange.
Tectonic riddle, your eyes as terminals.

Words enshrined in air, words enshrined in air.
You are in the stars / sky, I will meet you there.

Your name becomes cosmic in my mind
rangeless, endless and my blood explodes.

. . .


But 'til then we'll be hanging on the wall,
all our faces will be boomerangs hanging on the wall.
All the trees started to walk and all the rivers started to talk,
but only through digital manipulation.

. . .


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