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A New Set Of Lungs

by Hot Cross

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1.
You've done your part taken for granted turned in time Make this right, I gave up, now give up Everything we ever wanted stayed the same Broken bones and cracked skulls feel like sore thumbs and headaches. To the nail sticking up that gets hammered down. Blood burning bright upon ripped lips tastes like the end of inertia and the start of our lives. These days, I can't be asked to worry about where the personas have gone Whether or not they've ever made sense or to care what they were originally based on And all of my good sense has fallen through cracks and left its mark in other places far deeper than I could ever imagine No one here gets out alive 420 to fill it up.
2.
12 x 12 lives to live The dimensions of disaster keep this ark afloat with letters posted at the price of pride And they fail us Yet flow with the missed chance of one last taste of affection You have nothing on these miserable jokes of intimate pasts and the rose coloured lense of truth And all the unconscious unfolded unspoken Remember There's something to be said for the ones you think of last when there's nothing left to salvage from your fucking past I've stopped drawing that scene and started speaking in tongues A new state of mind is long overdue it's time I inhaled with a new set of lungs
3.
I've learned these years in pulses and rhythms etched into stone by leaving my heart in too many shells before really setting into my own Take it away And now I'm going through motions but not moving on and I'm expecting irony to linger long after humor has gone And what's left to feel when time tells tall tales of what may have could have never was Solutions Solutions always few and far between. Yet just ahead, left for dead turned aside and abandoned to reality instead. And so we're aimless caught behind and left without its worse than morbid and less than funny the way it's turned out.
4.
You can lead the punks to reason but you can't make them think and lifelong trouble with the burning fists and angry hearts of america's young is a fear of the new and the narrow outdated tunnels they see the world through And where to turn but up ones own ass where the answers are free but shit nonetheless We're used to the smell and content with the mess because a slogan's much easier than a second guess And still we water paper flowers thinking we've found the way for tomorrow lest we forget the empty heads will always be the first to try and kill what's already dead
5.
I will say this 9 out of 10 times when you trust yourself the inevitable finds you back in the place you've been begging to avoid And when it all comes back to the identical conversations as insignificant as yesterday's you hope to realize that your first instinct is always the right one it's better to run from a death knell than to fight one This is always true Ironic that the first to argue is always the one you're on about ironic that you're always the last to trust your own plans and even worse that you're unavoidably the object of your own guilt
6.
4:A030401 01:17
It's always hardest to discuss what you should and you're never guiltier than when your intentions are good And we're held together but my arms don't stretch so far anymore and thought the situation taunts and the sleepless energy of a stranger scrawls random letters you avoid the self absorbed frenzy of isolation grief and nostalgia makes reality of myths and turns apology into indictment These words kill And it makes sense that we're here and it makes a mess to deny how far we're come and how much further we've to fall
7.
Finger Redux 02:46
Sifting through 3 years 8 months and a handful of dust like shadows Falling through a matrix of "wish I hads" And it's much harder to see how much space was taken When your chest pounds with the footsteps of those you've forsaken Its a shame isn't it The way these hours spin out of control And how the tighter your grip on the why And the how insures a faster demise to a here and a now There's no strength in numbers is the one thing I've found And you can't trust your balance Until you've walked with your feet on the ground
8.
And so I stopped for a minute. I stopped and stood still and let time pass or run out a lot sooner than I can or I will. And I could give a fuck about voices or pictures or what we’ve known or what we’ve said cause it’s all wrapped up in star or stripes or left to awful dreams inside my head. I’m failing to understand what I’ve never looked for over a shoulder, all the while overstepping the obvious, falling short or shame. Putting my hand over my heart, but forgetting its name. My finger’s on the pulse… and though this pen writes we still live in a world waiting to be written.
9.
Look ahead with forward eyes. And it all stood still for us. It's either that or run and hide. So still in fact, that our planted feet coasted back towards a circumstance you'd never fathom. I've taken my cue, passed through countless masks, spit years of plans and watched them all fall through. Your eyes like mortar, made of looks that can kill. Reborn, but not alive. A want for strength we lacked in former lives. Put it on. Look away, we look the same. A calendar has less time then I do. This was all due to expire in a past life, and funny how it followed me here with all the same voices, cautions, smiles and fears. I've spread myself to thin again. I've hollowed out logic looking for explanations and found nothing but my own universe to dwell in again, and I'm not so sure I've goteen any wiser with age

about

Debut EP by ex-members of Saetia, You & I, Neil Perry, Joshua Fit For Battle, Off Minor, The Now and Interpol.

credits

released March 1, 2001

Recorded by Jonathan Kreinik with assistance by Nikhil Ranada at American Studios
Mastered by Alan Douchess at WWSide Music
Cover photo by Erin Nicole Brown
Inside photo by Jessica Abramovich
Layout by Matt Smith

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all rights reserved

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Hot Cross Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

2000-2007

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