The Long Summer

by Bonehouse

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about

This record is a remixed/remastered collection of our two summer demos from 2011/2012, it's available on 12" from Boslevan Records, Middleman Records, i.Corrupt records and Enjoyment Records or you can buy it on our bigcartel.

credits

released 22 July 2013

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Track Name: The Bonehouse Summer Jam
let's slaughter convention with a world weary gaze and the time worn by two straining eyes. in spite of it all she won't listen to me, because time worn is time lost. despite it all we're ceiling high, igniting firestorms and words that you despise. signs that struggle to belong, bottled ships washed up ashore. the time we clutch into our chests, it bends and break and falls, you always will and never will be. with tired arms, and wounded hearts we howl and scream and moan, you always were, never will be. despite it all we're ceiling high, devouring pages out of books, unsatisfied. time marches on, volition stands still, the words falter through just like they always will. despite it all we're ceiling high, always sure of who were are and what's inside. in spite of it all she's unable to tell the time, to tell me the time.
Track Name: Minnesota
Minnesota - if I am worthless then tell me so, is your reflection as pure as snow? your words are hollow, your eyes are true, they mask your hatred and distorted view. since the day I was born I knew just who I am, three decades gone by, never faltered or failed. so what makes you think I am less of a man, all your judgement and scorn is wasted. one callous bastard nailed to the wall, broken and bloodied and six feet tall. if I am worthless then tell me so, is your reflection as pure as snow? eager, shorn of hope, worthless. broken, severed, dismantled, forgotten. contract abandoned, neglected, forgotten, your judgement a weapon, how worthless I've gotten. your namesake has fallen, dismantled and wilted. the premise is hollow, the footsteps you follow. contract abandoned, neglected, forgotten, your ideals are slanted, despised and derided. if I am worthless then tell me so.
Track Name: One Arm In
One Arm In - an outpour of devotion from the modern day slave, don't sell yourself away. wear a thousand faces by the end of each day, don't sell yourself away. one last chance to ward off convention. the soft entrails of the parents of no-one. and what I said doesn't matter at the end of all days. appearance is nothing when it's given away. don't fade out tomorrow, blow the world up today, don't sell yourself away. it doesn't hurt to be angry, throw your fist in the air, don't sell yourself away. one last chance to form the parade. we'll march through the centre, disturbing the graves. we're not waving a flag, we're not saving ourselves, we're not dying alone, we're not dying alone. stay focused, stay strong, stay awake and stay young. stray not from the beaten path, or stay worthless.
Track Name: A Grasp Too Far
A Grasp Too Far - forgetting everything and falling back again, with no illusions of growing up and no problems giving in. I touch broken hands to eyes and I touch tetchy, tender skin and I can't trust these brittle bones and I'm misplacing all the words. the way we were wasn't aimless, everlasting. what's said is all I can hear, what's said will fall on deaf ears. forgetting everything and falling back again, with no illusions of growing up and no problems giving in. and I'm losing track of time and I'm losing any faith, any faith that I ever had in pursuit of common ground. words splinter on my crystal tongue. selfish, thoughtless, spiteful words, that crack upon my golden teeth.
Track Name: We Know So Well
We Know So Well - winter's steam screams, scaling nostrils, stigmata forming on sweaty palms adorned with woollen maps and heart attacks, we lost ourselves in treasure maps. smokey whisps of gunpowder, double barrelled and helpless regret, a tide of americana washing out from a sun-soaked bay. a stones throw from hearts and homes, longing is gone. golden pillars of forgotten promise radiate and gently admonish warm skin with cold truth but still we look forward into the sun. winter's steam screams, scalding nostrils, stigmata forming on sweaty palms adorned with woolen wraps and treasure maps, we lost our friends to heart attacks. wishing away wonderment, washing away lust, walking off conceit, waking up older. buried in books, bereaved and platonic, the hipflask promises to unmask all we know and never knew. avenues and rendez-vous, your cobblestones and your bag of bones, we're digging up words that we can't quite remember but we plan to dismember a stones throw from hearts and homes.
Track Name: Shipwrecks Don't Sink Ships
Shipwrecks Don't Sink Ships - I can't see at all through binded eyes, for all to see the blind bind their eyes; but they can't see at all, the vinegar soaked first editions scattered in the road. cursing their way to perdition, singing their swansongs, jowels flicker under stage lights as we're stripped of our rights human first and last. where eyebrows meet and knuckles drag and hatred's wanton wave our black flag. whether you ignore it, or whether you deny it, your head in the sand is a burning cross.
Track Name: Old Faithful
Old Faithful - a hot white flash; a recurring dream; an omnipresence. dirt corridors that we've limped down every day of our lives burn bright and burn loud; a mortuary. the lines on our faces gone, ordinance vanished. mapped out on his face, signatures of regret, face the fine lines that dignify our regrets. the feedback was a reprieve from the whispers of regret that haunt us undaunted and have done for decades. those brief seconds when we couldn't hear the screams and groans and clatter of prosthetic limbs. they left us in the trenches to die so pick up your guns and fight. muster all of what's left in your arthritic knuckles, holler and stammer 'once more into the breach'. pull yourselves out of your trenches, pull yourselves out of your rut, holler and yelp 'once more into the breach'. they left us in the trenches to die.
Track Name: Tops Off, Hoods Up
Tops Off, Hoods Up - wrap my hands in threads of woe and curse out the names that you'll never know, until I go home and bind my hands in wound old tape of your favourite bands. dance in time with the rapture, cut all your hair and remember her, wrap my hands in cotton wool; twenty-five years of your fucking rules. silence, scissors scream, coming apart at the seams. silence, small town big mouth strikes again. tops off, hoods up, throwdown, fight back, get your kids up for a heart attack. the scissors scream, I'm coming apart at the seams, small town big mouth strikes again, strikes anywhere, the scissors scream, I'm coming apart at the seams. seventy-seven, you're on your own, you've emptied our hearts like you emptied our homes.