I remained an adolescent for too long and became an adult too quickly. I still genuinely want to gift myself the music I demand, which I consider, the foolish pursuit of the elusive; a life spent in curiosity, from masturbation to mutability.
In hindsight, everyone is capable of providing a perfect picture of the past, a retroactivity of thought and knowledge that makes any attempt to render a product of the mind personal, erasable.
So I entertain myself by thinking that Facet Squared is the direct continuation of Devotion and that Execution is the right sum between Wire and Buzzcocks and the origin of Grant Hart. Brand-New-Life and Strong Reaction, differently alike, united in the lift of That's When I Reach For My Revolver, and if you can't hear Weezer in Academy Fight Song, you're a bad person.
This violent burning, obviously without control, that will engulf the following years is an excessive image of the past moment where the Burma were holding the match ready to vanish before the dreaded oblivion; victims of the reunions and grateful to the Alternative-Boom of the early nineties, nevertheless fundamental and seminal.
True to themselves as long as punk was true to them.
Fame and fortune is a stupid game and fame and fortune is the game I play, fame and fortune is a stupid game and fame and fortune is the game I play, fame and fortune is a stupid game and fame and fortune is the game I play, I play forever.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 That's When I Reach for My Revolver (03:53)
Once I had my heroes
Once I had my dreams
But all of that is changed now
They've turned things inside out
The truth is not so comfortable, no
And mother taught us patience
The virtues of restraint
And father taught us boundaries
Beyond which we must go
To find the secrets promised us, yeah
That's when I reach for my revolver
That's when it all gets blown away
That's when I reach for my revolver
The spirit fights to find its way
A friend of mine once told me
His one and only aim
To build a giant castle
And live inside his name
Cry and whispers sing in muted pain
That's when I reach for my revolver
That's when it all gets blown away
That's when I reach for my revolver
The spirit fights to find its way
Tonight the sky is empty
But that is nothing new
Its dead eyes look upon us
And they tell us we're nothing but slaves
That's when I reach for my revolver
(...but slaves)
That's when I reach for my revolver
That's when I reach for my revolver
That's when I reach for my revolver
That's when I reach for my revolver
That's when I reach for my revolver
02 Outlaw (02:33)
I have slipped into
I have slipped into
Saw those creatures in the back of my heart
Opened the door and attacked them at the start
Pushed my blood into a deeper trance
It consumes my thought, it alters my stance
I have slipped into a mighty stream
Open my fins, open my scream
I saw you sleeping with your coat on a hill
While my face lay at the windowsill
I walked down the street on the sidewalks so cold
I walked down the street into the coat that folds
You turned around, screamed at the scene
Grabbed my hand and leapt out of the screen
I won't be there when the monster flips
I'll have it buried with an axe and a pick
I have seen you in your jacket
Now I am an outlaw
Outlaw
03 Fame and Fortune (03:35)
Fame and fortune, facts of life
Most of what makes it is useless tripe
So change the angle of the battle plan
To hit the target
Fame and fortune, fancy that
Nothing but rabbits come out of the hat
So try to catch a falling star,
Crush it into dust and stuff it down a jar
And throw it far away
Now the point is back to front
See-through people
See-through monuments
No empire
The beginning, at the ending (one goes up, one goes down)
Smash a face against the wall
Grind a face into the ground - Oh No
Pretty faces on the wall - They Fall
Heat to boiling, disappear in the sky
Slash the ashes, and bake into a pie
Pretty faces on the ground - Oh No, No, No
Fame and fortune is a stupid game and
Fame and fortune is the game I play
I play forever
04 This Is Not a Photograph (01:56)
This is not a photograph - no
(This is not a photograph)
And these are not the Elysian Fields
(This is not a photograph)
This is not a bigot's head - no
(This is not a photograph)
(This is not a photograph)
This is just a perpendicular line to the grain
(This is not a photograph)
This wants to be outside the cage of the age
(This is not a photograph)
This is not a bigot's leg
(This is not a photograph)
(This is not a photograph)
(This is not a photograph)
...photograph
...photograph
...photograph
...photograph
...photograph
05 Red (03:37)
There's a window in my head.
There's a window in my heart.
I look out of them when I'm sleepy
and then I fall apart.
Things are crumbling outside of me
and they're crashing at my door.
There's a crest that keeps arriving.
I strip my face off of the mirror
and then I take another breath.
The animals are still screaming, dreaming
Screaming for a human's death
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By maryg
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