The castle fountain clapped
passed the island ears
and caused horrible waves
the worlds been drained of color and only runs in sepia

The people have wandered into the Dispatched Realm
a world of shadow and silence
nothing can be seen or heard but we speak in glyphs

Now, faces on the walls and dancing limbs
honor our latent inner horror that we've suppressed
unwittingly feeding them well
unwittingly feeding them well
unwittingly feeding them well and they're coming for us.
Oh god

My own take on the "scroll of sorrow" that we engage in routinely. I took some inspiration stylistically from 80's horror movies. Even the title evokes memories of a pulp sci-fi movie with a plot twist that this is earth.

Watering this sunken peach
and where it grows is up to me
I'm sorry for the lousy week
but now I'm up to the task
of being free to do as you please

Every city has it's lovers
and it's gentle bus
that guides us through the atrium
of all the stupid fuss
that blows a hole into the heart sewn shut

It's such a magical night
It's such a magical magical magical night

Can we try this out again
when I am feeling well again
it's no excuse, it's simply apologies my friend
I promise not to do this dance again

We should take your sorry coven
out for a bit to brunch
and afterwards we go to town to do some more fun stuff

From the point of view of someone who is not having a magical night at all but experience something outside of the routine existence they have trapped themselves in.

Put me in a box
don't poke holes on top
I will never leave
when you're done fixing me

Handsome as the hole
that whispers to your dream
railroads can't console me
tim tim timiny they would sing

I was once in love
with everything you do
could it be I've grown old
could it be my feathers fly free
in time
with my

heavy heartbeat
underneath my
careful wings above the sea

Tell me i'm a toy
to wander to your tomb
you've made a home for me
oh so soon you do assume

Apples from the tree
have no vertibrae known
to all of mother kind
her babes are bruised and left behind
to grow old in line
please do

grow fond of sharks teeth
that's all that we'll be
grant amnesty to careful wings

One of the more laid back and atmospheric singles to be released featuring very up close and moody vocals. The lyrics are spoken from the point of view of someone who is genuinely loved, but wants to be free in order to grow.

The original single's artwork is a baby head made from chenille stems, as we all know, babies are a symbol of care and love but they have to grow. I'm not crying, you're crying.

Terror karat five
in the memoirs of West Umbria
we staked to the ground
what are bat-wings coarse with iron tongue

Soothe and surprise
in the hunter's siphilganglia
wrote honors to his wife
and that none outrun a boot-nail sharp

Do the door-mouse lies
suffer from the power stomp
or lurk memoized
unfiltered and untouched?

I wanted to write a song about a party of vampire hunters that get in way over their head in the pursuit of wanting to kill a vampire. The lyrics are cryptic as hell, but I'll break them down.

The first stanza is about the task they are about to do. Five in numerology can represent the imperfection of man compared to seven (heaven) or six (hell) so line one describes a terror of human quality. West Umbria could have been where the story took place (a provice of Italy). The rest pulls from imagery of stakes and bat-wings which are characteristic of vampires.

Second stanza describes the recognition that they have messed up on this quest. A Siphilganglia is not a real part of the brain; the terror they feel is unreal enough that it merits invention. They say prayers to their wives because you can't un-step on a nail, hence "boot-nail sharp".

The final stanza asks a question. Now that they have survived the encounter, will their story be squashed out completely, or written down but forgotten? Memoized is not a mispelling of the word "memorized" but is to "take a memo" and has some ties to Computer Science, which is my specialty.

I'm confronted with a problem
I think you might understand
I must make a decision
Sometimes they are unplanned

I can't help the feeling
that I've made a mistake
I can't help but wonder
which choice I should have made

Now more than ever, we are paralyzed with choices. Even when we are certain we wanted something, we are stuck sizing up the "opportunity cost" of our decision. What did we give up? Was this choice correct?

The name borrows from Alan Turring's "Halting Problem", which is also called the "Decision Problem". He proved that a computer program cannot determine if it will ever stop computing.

Every time it's sudden sudden
sudden death like
god on top it's sudden sudden
I'm a fool for
fighting god
it's hard inside
it's Osterboten

I wanted a song that captured the feeling of being in an un-winnable boss battle. It has some choral backing vocals, jarring drums and vocals that can only be described as "woe". The lyrics describe cthardic recognition of the challenged, Mr. Osterboten, being unchallengable.

Animinal an animali
anam an inimanal
anam an inimal
animal minimal animal

Minimal animal iminal aminal minimal animal
manimal animal inimal aminal

The lyric is produced by various anagrams from the letters in the word "Animal". Originally, I wanted the title to use set notation, but most distributors wouldn't allow it and turned this into an acronym.

The frowning calls like horns shot through the air
and trigger Rembrant fountains free from care
from the fearful hall-mice
from the fearful hall-mice

Repeat the prayer and burn down the bridge
until you've rediscovered the wild sphinx
and grant her invitation
and grant her invitation

The salient sounds of immodest animals
plays like dark harps on prosthetic dreams that fall
detatched from inhibition
detatched from inhibition

And then you've entered the night
and then you've entered the night
and then you've entered the night
and become soft with satisfaction

There is some innuendo in place in this song but I don't think it has to be entirely sexual. I think it's just as much about wanting something that is socially frowned upon or unacceptable. Once you've commited to having it, being part of the club or "entering the night" becomes part of that satisfaction.

Born with the wrong hands
with the fingers rowed with ribs
and the nails with the longing eyes
these are human hands
hands like people

Fearless appetite
the boney bastards scrawl for supper
what you said was "go to bed,
or soon you get another"

Watch out what your brothers swear
and hold them to their words
but if you don't take note of it
I'll feed you to the birds

I wrote a song about people shaped like hands, hence "human hands, hands like people". They are creatures that fight each other for food and don't trust each other. It's really campy and silly.

I sold my clothes for candles
but made a bed in warm sand
but the moon soars above
floating out of my human hands

Yearning prince who leans in with thirst
look but don't touch
touch but don't taste

A person sold the clothes off of their own back for a little illumination. They slept in the sand, satisfied, so long as they had a little light from their new candle. They then realize that moon provides more light but is out of reach.

Sometimes a person will embark on a harrowing journey and won't take a moment to appreciate the little things they've earned and move on to the next thing even if it is impossible.