1. |
Broken Ribs
04:26
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Broken ribs mean you’re not punk rock
if you read between the lines
it probably means you’re a lost cause
The end of the world will take place in a grocery store
Soon the lights are on
You benzene son
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2. |
Gal
02:37
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Deixa eu abordar
esta canção com dignidade.
Deixa a barba crescer
em volta da minha vergonha.
E se em vez de falar,
a gente escutar um disco da Gal?
ou do Jorge Ben?
Parece que te incomoda,
mas onde está a tristeza no Jorge?
Deixa eu abordar esta canção com dignidade.
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3. |
Never Never Nannies
03:34
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Instrumental
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4. |
||||
|
What they haven't seen
they will discard as lies.
They'll never believe
a damned thing about
the vanishing of bees
or about the bitter kiss
I gave you in the dark
in Portugal.
But it's true.
Yet, I'll admit
dreams bewilder me sometimes.
And it must be said:
sense can be stained by wine.
Still, I would cross my heart
if I am to describe
the kissing in the dark
in Portugal.
Am I deranged?
You know my mind
has seen much better days.
I guess you're mine
in a peculiar way.
Have it your way:
reduce our life to facts.
But I will wait
I'll leave the door ajar.
And I will cross my heart
when I am to describe
the kissing in the dark
in Portugal.
Have it your way.
You know you're mine.
I've seen much better days.
Dissolved in wine
you might just fade away.
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5. |
You Are Still The Cosmos
04:42
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The night is eternal
your heartbeat a symphony
I’m fast asleep
long before the end of the film
Call it a car crash
call it a struggle
you’re the cosmos
you’re still the cosmos
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6. |
Renard
04:13
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Hay quien no lo ha olvidado,
hay quienes no respiran.
No hay aire,
¿qué es una escafandra si no hay aire?
¿Y si al volver no encontramos una razón
y la inventamos?
Renard, ya olvídalo,
aunque nos lo digan no hay
una ciudad sumergida.
No hay pesadillas,
y juro que no hay lobos en el árbol familiar.
Hay quien ya lo ha olvidado,
hay quien ya no respira.
No hay aire,
¿cómo es que bailan si no hay aire?
y aunque nos lo digan no hay
una ciudad sumergida.
No hay pesadillas.
y puedes creerme, a dos pasos te sigo si te vas.
Renard, ya olvídalo
si por ti no suspiran es que no hay aire
¿qué es una escafandra si no hay aire?
¿Y si al volver no encontramos una razón
y la inventamos?
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7. |
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Holy bombs use sandals and socks.
Midnight's over and strings
are waving for us (I mean everybody)
just for the sake of revisiting old songs,
just for the sake of a good time.
Do you think you can say what an evening's worth?
a perfect tune? a supreme party?
and when the crowds ask for one more song,
make waves crash, make girls dig.
Holy bombs use sandals and socks.
Lulled into solvents and sting
just for the sake of a good laugh,
just for the sake of revisiting old songs
such pitiful songs to sing.
You’re the sea beneath my feet, you’re nobody.
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8. |
"Wild Love"
03:45
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Hey, bite your tongue!
It is the singer, not the song,
it is the warble and groan.
It’s the migration of monarch butterflies,
and other things I won’t disclose.
Bite your tongue!
It’s “Wild Love”.
She’s not like you,
she can’t say no.
Hey, cross my heart!
Wild horses have no tracks,
and stained glass windows have no eyes.
I’ll say it over, for what I know for sure
has been proven wrong so many times before.
Cross my heart!
It’s “Wild Love”.
She’s not like you,
she can’t say no.
It’s not like that,
it ain’t gold.
I’m the lost sailor
this ain’t my home.
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9. |
Die Diego Die
06:28
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I don’t trust my memory
I have to do everything twice
it doesn’t seem like I’ve been here before
an eternal return I can’t recall
summer months feel like rats
Discussing the meaning of language
and it all seems to be strangely in place
I’ve given up with my habits
nothing can remain private
I’ll let myself grow older
my teeth and nails will abandon me
I’ll welcome the whispers of summer
my heart and hands will be colder
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10. |
Wolves, And Then Some
04:23
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Say what you will on a night like this,
you and I wait for wolves, and then some
notion of decency intrudes.
Two dazzled sparrows collide mid-air.
This is the time to love like birds
this is the time t o make up lies
lies full of color, lies so pure.
Lies made of mother-of-pearl and glue.
Hey, low red moon! what's the point of it all?
Hey real love, what's the point of it all?
If I'm turning into dust, tra-la-la
like those before me did, tra-la-la
I'd rather play, I'd rather face my fears
I'd rather sing and hope you'll hear.
Hey, purple sky! what's the point of it all?
Hey real love, what's the point of it all?
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Antoine Reverb Guadalajara, Mexico
We're a psychedelic pop band. Sort of.
We have released a couple of LP's and a few digital EP's.
Currently droning away somewhere.
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