Fair Trades and Farewells

by Hot Cross

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The 2nd EP and 4th release overall from Hot Cross. Released in 2004. Matt and Josh switched to their native instruments (bass and guitar, respectively) on this one. The download of the full EP contains previously unreleased versions of "Tacoma", "Existence" and "Rejoinder"


released June 8, 2004

Recorded By Josh Jakubowski at Cannon Road Studios
Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side Music
Layout and design by Ryan Patterson / Auxilialry



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Track Name: Prepare/Repair
A rising tide spent drowning in days lost to one heart's final lament.
Thrown off like grins known only to the dead.
Plastered behind scarlet eyes - Scarlet eyes!
Plastered behind scarlet eyes, stinking of tomorrow.
I say that once a letter is written it's not so easily sent.
Like trying to find 2 of 3, but settling for one of me instead.
It's a hard faith to follow:
the constant give without the take;
after the scraping through it's one less heart to break.
A head above water for the eyes held under a lasting plea for the lost mind torn asunder.
Nothing but fair trades and farewells,
when the present tense reveals a sixth sense,
when you'd die for a word or one less empty shell.
Track Name: Solanka
Dolls and shells, dolls and shells.
Three sheets to the wind, and swollowed by fortunes twisted spells.
An empty hand for a lifeless eye glimmer lost and wasted and spent on hallowed stifled ties.
I preach to the converting with a tounge less disconcerting
and a name pulled forth from ashes scattered when the fruits of our labour hardly mattered.
The poor obessions of solanka.
Crash meets head in a blur of demons lost and fired fed
betting these last inches of rope on a new machine left for dead.
Wasting years praying for solanka an uncharted mind embracing spirits of another kind
Track Name: Throw Collars to the Wind
It's times like these,
in the midst of sink or swim that I've enfolded.
Nouns and verbs in nights I seek to forget,
and looked for eyes spying on a future less grim.
You don't argue with the wise,
well-read or well- spoken.
Teach the younger that it's running legs are easily broken.
Lessons learned are scars that don't heal,
but are always earned.
And there's no chance of seeing through the disguises when your only staring through holes torn and burned.
Sixteen years too many with collars thrown to the wind.
Left wondering if it's easier to buy design, or wallow in sin...
And we are passing through love, like we're shedding older skin.
Track Name: Better a Corpse Than a Nun
The easiest way to dodge is to ignore
Spit back and wait for more
Turn the pages of history yellowed, underlined and torn
No chance of tracing exactly how these terms were born
Rewrite plan of attack
Find a number with a bullet
Fellate the right minds so a suit won't pull it
Label the lie
Label the lie
Though it may be better than sitting above your higher horse
running backwards through ten years of the same course
I'm done asking why we look ahead when we face the wrong way
Better to swollow my intentions and watch the past slip away
Track Name: Two Cripples Dancing
Track Name: Consonants
Dancing crazed and forgotten;
six halls one heart.
One million ways to hold onto silhouttes.
Ignored by tattered lips, broken calls.
It's like you've run out on yourself.
Split between death, good fortune and a staggering breath.
A broken key for a faulty lock.
A fevered pray for a dying flock.
Like consonants without vowels.
Jagged tongue wag,
incessant stones passed
other hours merely forgotten.
It is with a dream and a heart that we proceed.
Not a thought to leave not another lifetime we need.
And though we may look behind;
this visions seductive glance,
we will pick up our pride and loosen our impenetrable stance.
Track Name: Tacoma
I have better memories of you during worse times
days you planned
with your head in your hands
and your feet benath your thighs
I'm sure you'd recall
that stretch of mills wrapped around
rockier peaks
back home where your diary leaks
the names of those you forgot to possess
the wretched figures that youve never sewn to your dress
you are much more
than I'll resign myself to
you are much more
than I'll assign to myself
our hands are wrapped around
tongues youve bit
and its easy to reword failures
that no longer fit
I forgot your name on that very same day
I wrote away the symptoms youd have me betray
and I'll never invest a sick sense in anything this immense
minds that turn pale
from conversations and innuendos you struggle to find
they grow out of themselves on their own
through words we find
pills that are easier lost than swallowed
when we've buried all the roads we had left to follow
over and over and over and over again