hi tom / hey tom blood

by swansea recreation centre

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04:24
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about

Shortman and Johanssen skip school for the day. As fate would have it, everywhere they go they run into someone they know. They duck into a used clothing shop where they buy baggy old coats and hats as disguises. Johanssen turns to Shortman and says, "This is great! We'll be like free men in Paris--unfettered and alive!"

"What are you talking about?" asks Shortman.

credits

released September 29, 2011

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about

swansea recreation centre UK

the swansea recreation centre are a band scattered around east london. none of us have been to wales or have any idea what the recreation centre in swansea might look like. this may or may not be what it sounds like.

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Track Name: merely ghost
don't go down that road
albeit it's the only road.
disheartened with travel,
i fear you won't return.
in hell yer only human,
at heart, merely ghost
Track Name: first time european
it must've been years. let me look at you.
them old scars abandoned briefly in the
face of this nostalgic reprieve

where'd them vexes go? she said:
'i couldn't tell before... blasted misted eyes
would swear this was my life not some tepid repeat.
that's what brings me down'.

you know you're not the first. hell, i've known 6 years'
worth of travelling ghosts. we've talked of rest and yet
i sing jealously...

all them duds and dawdlers - 'i feel all of that'.
the ends of yonge st - 'staggered at night'.
some mean devil's trade ain't no trade at all...
cheap frocks in a carry-all.

you're a pilgriming wretch
where'd you go, lily?
'i've swindled the fuckers, i'm free'.
Track Name: surf touch (beaches)
remember these mediterranean seas
always in midnight's colourings.
nook's echoing humid sighs,
lips releasing lovers' bites,
amidst whispers of forever and again.

someday these meager city stars
by chance will glimmer july's colours.
if true our eyes will freshly glaze
years after these blushed complexions fade.

beaches.
we watched the surf touch sand then return to sea.
them waters lap so longingly.
time is a thing borrowed, it ain't kept.
there is no forever, there's no again.

beaches from god-knows-when.
beaches in summer's dress.
we'll keep searching for exquisiteness.

beaches left in tired skiffs.
beaches sought for drunken trysts.
moments stolen from lonesomeness.
beaches.