music, lyrics, illust : Ghost-P

vocal : Gumi

date : 19 juillet 2016

 

lyrics : 

Stitch sew cut pull
Stitch sew cut and pull
Stitch sew cut pull
Stitch sew cut and pull
Stitch sew cut pull
Stitch sew cut and pull
Stitch sew I tried
Stitch sew you're alive

Hah hah
Hah hah
Hah hah
Hah hah

80 degrees, hemmed by reveries
Iron out saudade and wrinkles unfold
Off-grain fabric tells a different tale
Tailored frequencies need to be repaired

7AM is when the station plays its sounds
Listening to the speaker while the patterns pin into place
Scissors separate the yellow from the white
Good morning, small-town listeners

Thimbles coat my fingers
Feed dogs are jamming up
The thread comes in tangles
I see such pretty things

FM comes in different colors, I believe
In the sewing machine, I've lost myself
Memories inside my heart are there to grieve
Color-coded by the love he gave to me

Ah, his voice, it speaks to me through the radio
Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board
Losing bobbins under tables, is it so?
Every day, it feels like seams are more than torn

Buttoned patchwork, thread that's tied in knots
Hand-sew everything with kind intention
Liquid sound waves pour from my eyes
My heart cries out to you in desperation


7AM is when the station plays its sounds
Listening to the speaker while the patterns sew into place
Unmistakably, he'll return alive
His colors ought to show again

Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white
No – blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in
Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white
No – blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in
Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white
No – blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in
Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white
No – blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in
Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white
No – blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in
Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white
No – blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in
Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white
No – blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in
Black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white
No – blue and green and yellow and red

These aren't the colors i should see

FM comes in different colors, I believe
In the sewing machine, I've lost myself
Memories inside my heart are there to grieve
Color-coded by the love he gave to me

Ah, his voice, it speaks to me through the radio
Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board
Losing bobbins under tables, is it so?
Every day, it feels like seams are more than torn

 

► Umber's cover ◄

 ► MoonNue's cover ◄

► Music box version ◄

 

music, lyrics, illust : Ghost-P

music, mix : Creep-p

vocal : V Flower

date : 7 novembre 2016

 

lyrics : 

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and

Make up for forgotten years

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and and and and

 

And on the count of three, you need to get out

One, two, oh, you sure convinced me

I don’t want the infection spreading

Oh my god, you’re crying again

 

Say “ah”!

 

Say that again, you know it doesn’t matter

I’ve been choking for a while

Now tell me all about my selfish, fucked-up memories

Begging me to stay and watch as things get much, much more worse

 

Say “ah”!

I’m ‘bout to shut down

“Ah”

Under anesthesia

I can’t feel the pain anymore

I’m pulling teeth for what seems like an eternity

 

On the count of three, you need to get out

One, two, oh, you sure convinced me

I don’t want the infection spreading

Oh my god, you’re crying again

 

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and

Make up for forgotten years

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and

Make up for forgotten years

 

Over and over, again again

Flashbulb memories like surgical lights

When all this is over, I swear, I swear

I’ll open my mouth and scream louder than before

 

Say “ah”!

I’m ‘bout to shut down under anesthesia

I can’t feel the pain anymore

I’m pulling teeth for what seems like an eternity

 

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and

Make up for forgotten years

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and and and and and

 

And on the count of three, you need to get out

One, two, oh, you sure convinced me

I don’t want the infection spreading

Oh my god, you’re crying again

 

Pull ‘em out

Tear ‘em out

Pull ‘em out

Tear ‘em out

 

Your hands in my mouth

One, two, one, two

They never came out

Oh, your hands in my mouth

One, two, one, two

THEY NEVER CAME OUT

 

I realize, before my eyes

A situation irreversible

And my demise is unavoidable

There’s gotta be something more

Just tell me now, it’s over now

Be honest now, I don’t mind

Just tell me now, it’s over now

Be honest now, I don’t mind

 

Your hands in my mouth

One, two, one, two

They never came out

Your hands in my mouth

One, two, one, two

They never came out

 

And on the count of three, you need to get out

One, two, oh, you sure convinced me

I don’t want the infection spreading

Oh my god, you’re laughing again

 

And on the count of three, I need to get out

Two, three, oh, there’s nothing left here

I don’t want my infection spreading

Oh my god, I’m crying again

 

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and

Make up for forgotten years

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and

Make up for forgotten years

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and

Make up for forgotten years

Pull ‘em out and

And and

Wash ‘em off, the memories

Tear ‘em out and

And and

Make up for forgotten years