by Living & Wrestling

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released July 21, 2012

Recorded by Dante.




Living & Wrestling Milwaukee, Wisconsin

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Track Name: No Future
No future, no promises, no dreams of progress left in our eyes, red from bitterness. No remorse for the dead. They will never see their day. Their ghosts will be forever forgotten--their nameless faces erased from the page. Their flesh and bones are the bricks and the mortar to our concrete structures, yet we walk these halls, and we turn a blind eye when they turn the bullet on us.
Track Name: A Knife Scraping Against Bone
My breath fell through my hands, and is shattered on the pavement. Staring at me, a thousand eyes lead my dry skin to bleeding. Cut off the blood to the capillaries. From the weight of the this sky, we suffocate. My flesh, a fickle tool for capital. Up from my torn lungs, the blood flows and flows and flows.
Track Name: Anai's PRV (Progress Is A Police Car On Fire)
We're out of breath. Our lips stained with your valor. The sweetness of your promises has dried up. You left them all clenching your hands. But I'm feeling my grip slip.

You stole our eyes and serenaded our sorrows with your heavy words. And we're finding your songs were nothing more then empty breath and hollow hands. Disenchanted, our eyes have learned to see through. Backs broken, we stand upon the rocks we choose to cling to. (We cling to these forbidden dreams. We'll through away all the deceiving dreams you led us to believe. No leadership will bring us back from this. We're on a sinking ship. No captain can lead us away from our futures.

We stand on solid ground, truth in our own eyes, faith in our own footsteps, fate in our own hands.
Track Name: Self-Defense
I can always see the dark undersides of your eyelids. I can always see the death in your eyes. Cancer is the fabric of our totality. Each frame of this cinema is a fade to black. Each cry screams savage death and it's deafening. Our eardrums bleed from the sound.
Track Name: Levi Loved Me
Sky in our hands, sand in our feet, we captured the essence of our most primitive dreams. And with bloody feet, each unbalanced step brought us closer to something we always knew, but couldn't explain--the gravity holding us back. Sky in our hands, sand in our feet, we captured the essence of our long gone innocence (before our lives we betrayed, lives betrayed). Upon no return I submit myself to this, as I gaze upon the semblance of clouds, throwing my arms back, and falling into the sea.

These hands will unfold what could have been told. We'll scream this struggle. And we fall astray, but these hands carry our weight and bring us all back home.

The sky is on fire. The black smoke dries my lungs. I'm finding comfort miles away, among these bodies, among these waters that carry my weight and clean my wounds.

I can feel the waters raging over me. I can feel one hundred breaths condensing on my skin. I can feel two hundred hands carrying me.