Includes unlimited streaming of Come what may / Waiting to expire / Split EP
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Special offers package Come What you may/waiting to expire Split Vinyl Limited edition + Drone/Rickolus Split Vinyl Limited edition at only 18 Euros
Includes unlimited streaming of Come what may / Waiting to expire / Split EP
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
I guess I’ve changed, I’m not the same as my former self.
Things look different now, I’m falling out and cold as hell.
Wondering about the state of my mental health,
Distancing the inner sickness from the outer shell.
When I eat I’m still depleted and heaving loud,
But still soft enough to cough it up or keep it down.
This hysteria is haunting me, retreats to ground.
You see it etched into the depth of my beaten brow.
There’s a burned out body languished on the bottom rung.
And still I shiver from my liver to the iron lung.
From the hither to the whither to the tired tongue,
I stare directly down the barrel of your Gatling gun.
And it’s the safest way to pick apart the progeny.
We mean no harm but in dismay we flay our property.
I’m the same as every problem perched on top of me,
So it’s too late to seize the haste to say this properly.
I’m not the same, I’m not the same,
I’m not the shame I’m in.
I’m not same, I’m not the same,
I’m not the pain I’m in.
I’m not the same, I’m not the same,
I’m not the shell I’m in.
I’m not the same, I’m not the same,
I’m not the hell I’m in.
Don’t slip, I could miss the mark and murk us both.
It’s not a threat, I still invest in what I wait to know.
If this is sex or just in jest or just incestuous hope,
Either way it’s not okay if you won’t let it go.
It’s the focus of the waiver, wavered slippery slope.
If I’m supported by the waist, will you still let me low?
All this water washed the waste that we came to know,
And almost cherished, almost buried in the sable snow.
This disaster’s still uncharted past the cradle’s end,
Viscous plaster round the limb to coddle Kady’s mend.
I’m the vast and the vapid and the fable’s friend,
I’m not the same, I’m not the same, I’m not the shame I’m in.
I’m not the same, I’m not the same, I’m not the shell I’m in.
I’m not the shell I’m in. I’m not the hell I’m in.
I’m not the same, I’m not the same,
I’m not the shame I’m in.
I’m not same, I’m not the same,
I’m not the pain I’m in.
I’m not the same, I’m not the same,
I’m not the shell I’m in.
I’m not the same, I’m not the same,
I’m not the hell I’m in.
I guess I’ve changed, I’m not the same as my former self.
Things look different now, I’m falling out and cold as hell.
Wondering about the state of my mental health.
I couldn’t distance inner sickness from the outer shell.
And my value fell.
And my value fell.
And my value, well,
And my value fell.
And my value fell.
And my value fell.
And my value fell, well
And my value fell.
Dora Dorovitch is a small capacity creative unit born 2000, France.Hosts a secret research department on non-sustainable
music, other impossible projects.
For the ten years of the label we restarted our action with the compilation "connect the machine to the map" dedicated to Alt hip hop music....more
Sometimes you come across an artist that is compelled to do what they do.
I appreciate the musicality and the arrangement and the artistry of the songs. He sings and plays like his life depends on it. I appreciate the humanity of the lyrics… Like reading Tortilla Flats, or watching Nobody’s Fool.
Ceschi is a bright star. I’m glad he’s loose in the world. oldtruck
