Intimate Code Translator

by Thieves & Gentlemen

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about

"Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."

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released December 30, 2016

Israel Haigler

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all rights reserved

about

Thieves & Gentlemen Asheville, North Carolina

Israel Haigler.

I just want you to think.

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Track Name: Una Traduccion Sin Sentido
From the time you spoke us into a different substance
into the dragging mouth of contorted solstice
reinsert withal what's undismayed
centrifuging ex palimpsest autoclave
cut-open lips always say.
forever is the most meaningless palpitations.
And will you behave this translation?
neath the supping airplanes gargled in shadows.
choked in housebroken veins, cut from pasture gallows.
Rabid birth of accoutrements. Garbage garbling your every spawn.

You came with an offering of big black guns and sharp sharp knives and crystal suns and crisp dark eyes and pistols fun and fists turned scientific and theories equivocal but nothing real specific.
Where is your brother and what have you done with him?
I heard the sound of 30 silvers cashing in.

en las traducciones más sin sentido
en la plej sensignifa tradukoj
Track Name: Borrowed from Motherly Shame
We buried your miscarriage in the tar sands, with these holy camouflaged hands.
When we witnessed your stillbirth a hundred miles away the instant that you died.
Scratching your neck with magnet fingernails cannot wipe the memory from your senate eyes .
Don't abort the orphan, don't abort the orphan, he deserves to be forgotten, he deserves to earn his oxygen.

There's a heartbeat in the background of this building, billowing, borrowing, spoken far-away on a sky partially-bleeding.
Broken faucets called you haunted from the phone, don't you know?

Old men in coal black suits asking you, 'What are you doing for a living? Where are you living?'
Track Name: Dirt Christmas
You found the vhs encased in the ribcage of a violin sweating symphonies like a joke.
You left it there to rewind and reminisce, softly running a blue screen background hiss.
You keep it there, safe to never die. You look it over from time to time.
Now it's Dirt Christmas coming into town like a campaign, foaming out of their mouths with champagne
Getting sad with Parafamilia
Ornaments hanging from the ceiling
Like question marks, asking outloud
is there anything unconditional, now?
Getting sad with Parafamilia.
Polaroids flash memorabilia.

Basking by the infinite incandescence.
How are we gonna keep this family apart?
We'll pass a law!
Wrapped up in nostalgic adolescence.
What is the color of broken heart?
A passive gnaw.

How will we trade these words with each other, if at all?
Track Name: Intimacy Windows
A study begins of the intransient intimacy mysterious entity, divorcing palpable idiots maleable giving away hearts as if the heart were not anything but a pamphlet entrance pieces of sentence before an inevitable ending is a truth depending.
The rate of divorce is in force.
A break from the chord, we're in for it, now.

87% of the birds in the window come with an olive branch to tell you about the weather chance.
Look at them getting lost like tourists, buying air and paying off debt forests.
Staring at paintings of cliff edges ah, beautiful.
Some sadness you can't resist.

Wait, no I'm not ready.
Track Name: Translator Land Mine
Your veins choke on the thousands of gigabytes uploading the thought of death realized.
Your heart is beating chest pains.

There's no word for that in your language?

Translator in collapse, lost inside a burning map, died dreaming of syntax.
Can you translate the rocks in your mouth?
Translator in collapse, her heart beats like a crush of glass, good translations are coming home, an open mouth full of dial tone.
That's just the language of us landmines.

We ran the script and your heart is null,
A loss of mora from the skull.
The hard drive in your spine is spinning fast, writing the things into the disk of your back.

Translator in collapse, lost inside a burning map, died dreaming of syntax.
Can you translate the rocks in your mouth?
Translator in collapse, her heart beats like a crush of glass, good translations are coming home, an open mouth full of dial tone.
That's just the language of us landmines.
Track Name: Sent Our Postcards Through the Fissures
Near the sleeping hurricanes, I watch the planes assemble themselves in a trumpet of testament.
I thought I heard God's name, "Elohim".
Hear the fissures of mountains groaning in fountain.
All the while your arms folding you to death.

There was a sound like quiet violins and I had to watch you leave.
So we sent our postcards through the fissures, hoping that there was not a division.

We found ourselves in the smile of the exit.
We found ourselves in the mouth of the tempest.
Our raincoat glossary protected us from the precipice interest.
And our shoes were soaked to the brim and we cast off our obvious.
Because we sent out our prayers with a return address.
Hand-made postcard protest
we believe in rebate salvation,
mail-in rebate salvation,
we believe in mail-in rebate salvation.

Texture blood temperature: rich fleece.
Your uncle stares you down from across the street.
Do you know your father's gonna die in the matter of weeks?
The giver blood roots for miles eternity.

Talking theories and whatnot never dies, the giver blood grows up in your eyes.

There was a sound like quiet violin and I had to watch you leave through the kiss in the mountain, so we sent our postcards through the fissures,
Thank God taught me the giver blood.
Track Name: Endcodia Despiritus
Encodia despiritus
reach out through the ghost's chest
acclamate to the broken nest
mira el codigo de la puesta de sol

Whispers from black trees living in your backyard woven into guard dogs.
They got a face like your son, yeah they're blocking the sun, they got a face like the sun, bloqueando el sol.

And then like a guest entering your home, oh no you can't control those vines, vines, vines.
You could feel the dark dampen down your chest like a seed in nest. Those vines, vines, vines.

Yeah the thick nine braids counted the tongue and we washed our hands with the cameras on.
They're rendering the senate sounds.
Give us Barabbas.

Yeah them black trees spin vines.
Track Name: Password Child
You're gathering our interests to sell them to the magistrate.
Your smile is an advertisement personalized to my cognizance.
Your heart is a pixel, in the phylum of pistol shroud.
Your love is a page not found.

Problems loading your heart, this file does not exist.
Your permissions are passing the bile.
But your war-crimes got some style.
Merge your message into the
all-encompassing audience's mood.

Serial codes cutting throats hey nah nah,
Password child listen wild hey nah nah.
Track Name: Desert Boys and Daniel in the Sun
[Every man who hears harp, gambling en masse aparatus is to fall down in an erotic flinch.
King, "Call the satraps to convene a furnace for three men
Scamps awe at the fury in my eye. Belteshazzar what does my dream say?"

Nebuchadnezzar last seen fondling a tree, releasing his scamps upon the streets.
(So Daniel, a cypress is breaking the sky, monkeys with thousands of eyes, I'm eating grass and screaming lightning)
So Daniel don't listen to those lions, they're running for congress, in their pockets hidden sabres, folding fingers.
Daniel don't listen to those lions.

ipecacuana callosa
animales palacio
cubriendo la luna con una cara como esta

King Nebuchadnezzar underneath the hanging gardens eating grass, singing ,'kuwabara, kuwabara'.

Come now nether the knots that cover you,
Probably the gape of past ipecac took.]
Track Name: H_w _ Am Wh_t I _m N_w
We watched the video a thousand times,
And we felt our eyes burst from their sockets
because the bombs came in plastic
And I said, "Don't give up on this engine, we're almost through this mountain".
But the demon in us is this mountain and the sunset outside is visible from this bridge we have discovered divisible.


We found you on the ground, beaten, naked, and your mouth sewn shut.
That is how I am what I am now.
Aramaic tears gone digital.
Don't give up on this engine, we're almost through the mountain.