Begat in theatre of mistake

by Thieves & Gentlemen

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about

I never have made too much of an effort to put my music up like an actual artist does. So I've decided to start doing that.

credits

released February 13, 2014

Israel Haigler: Recorded, mixed, produced, wrote, uploaded, posted. blah blah blah.
Adam Burgess: Sampling and song structure of Pedestriana.
Benjamin James Cook: 2nd vocalist of Real Damage.

Thanks guys.

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Thieves & Gentlemen Asheville, North Carolina

Israel Haigler.

I just want you to think.

contact / help

Contact Thieves & Gentlemen

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Track Name: Ikana Forever
Insomnia embraces your body
You cannot sleep, it has been a week.
Anxiety becomes your wedding.
You are getting married to all that is scary.
You hear now, your family calling.
Asking you questions, you know not the answers.
The empty in your belly.
Is existing this loneliness.
You feel it in your bed.
Devil speaking your tongue now, a rag to the dirt as if to translate curse.

Sister, come with me now.

Father, don't let me be this infection, this gross dust collection that mothers such ugly love for destruction, teaching us nothing. But Father, let me be the message of your medicine.
Be the message of your medicine.

Narcissus wrapped up in pills and water
Breaking us down with illness and falter.
Making us sound like children forever.
Making us sound like children forever.

We are the latest infection, give us, give us the medicine.
Track Name: Yo te digo que el Mundo
Yo te digo que el mundo es una mujer hermosa de ser enterrado en su boda.
Her breaking down the language
Her wearing all religions
Her shaking off the spiders
Her breaking all her fingers
Ella siempre pide por ayuda.

We're logic tamed by our eyes. with glasses passed down by sirens and parents.
We're camouflaged by the sky breathing in everyone's sighs.
We're now reading everything you wanted us to, like history and science.
We're getting thicker and thicker now. Our sighs sicker and sicker how.
Feed us genetics and code so we can grow much more slow. Thank you.

Sheep's wool aflame for days, for ways, of paths, of maze we create.
Track Name: Sympathy Machine
I recently realized, the doctor in me cries like a cloud at my aggregates
feverishly, I want to help you.

But I am broken in half.
Used like a medicine mask.
Just from our contact and paths.

There is a man who stands naked in nothing but a lab-coat
at the corner of your street, bothering others and repeating to himself.
I am a Machine of Sympathy
masquerading for the masks of dichotomy
Slowly waiting for (my) patients to arrive.
With my degree in hand, I will quickly die.
I search for Broken Lavish Pottery,
with my scalpel, I caress their anatomy.

Do you need an incision for your chest and pelvic fission?
I am a doctor but not a physician.
Track Name: Real Damage (ft. Ink Writers)
Take a sip of nonsense, chase it down with what?
I couldn't think of anything else, so I cut,
the. hands. i. had. off.
Got news one from the store, 1994.
Vintage enough, and it matches my brain's rust.
My conscious is red from choking itself to death.
My ego's killing little boys with guns and sticks.
Dear Lord, we can't get off without watching someone die.
Much less from the naked women and choir sighs.
Sacred is understatement, don't make me cry.
We're the girls and boys born with mirrors for eyes.
Stupid little kids stuck in your leather jackets.
Drinking cigarettes from dad's medicine cabinet
It tasted cement, Oh, I really wish I hadn't.
I applied for a job and the cash register stabbed me.

Nightlife parents, with all-natural perfume coats.
Travelling band down the coast like a storm seagulls.
They don't believe in God cause man's ugly broke.
Their alcohol breath and potsmoke breasts.

but Adulterous Swans, they could convince you.
Octopus machete grins, they could convince you.
Wolves wearing glasses, they could convince you.
boys made of fingernails, they could convince you.

You want more cement for your grey, grey teeth? (You want more victims for your crotch-shaped hands.)
You need more feathers for your peacock face? (You wanted to blowout the dust from your tear glands.)
You want more emotion in your empty artpiece? (You wanted real damage to tell all your friends.)
Honey, have you seen my heart? I might've sold it today.
"Honey, I haven't seen your heart, maybe it got out and ran."