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White Crosses EP

by Population

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1.
Half my life’s devotion Went to a Holy Ghost. At fifteen years I felt the motion, Took my soul and I left the Host. Why can’t I believe in what I feel, Is that not enough? Terrified, a child confronting hell; Therein lies the gulf. Why can’t I believe them, why can’t we all belong? Why must I receive them, the white crosses on my door? Eyes exuding pain, unrequited love Hanging from a cross. The summer sun relinquishes my fear of death, And I think of God. You tell me, ‘Defiance’, and I know Because I have a heart. Still, I want to feel a part of something else, Sacrificial love. Why can’t I believe them, why can’t we all belong? Why must I deceive them, the white crosses on my door? Your bleeding… heart. Conceiving, we’ll never part. Congealing, I feel it start. Their bleeding, their bleeding hearts. The insanity built up in a morality; The insanity of what could be a lie.
2.
Sunny days, go away – the rain will hide this sullen face; don’t blame it all on me if you’re feeling cold. The pensive mind, preoccupied, giving up on looking for the gold in mines – too many times, I’ve played the roles. They hate our kind, the losing tribe – hidden messages are playing on the radio. The reasons that I walked on by – for too many ages, now, we haven’t had nowhere to go. They hate our kind, we don’t have time; turning over cheeks and waiting for the wind to blow. The lost tribe, distraught kinds… The memories, in diaries – black ribbons, tucked beneath the bed; I remember one bright moment, it went dead – now that age has seized me. The agonies, frivolities, casting off hate – let it die alone. I’m trying hard these days at blending in. They hate our kind, the losing tribe – hidden messages are playing on the radio. The reasons that I walked on by – for too many ages, now, we haven’t had nowhere to go. They hate our kind, we don’t have time; turning over cheeks and waiting for the wind to blow. The lost tribe, distraught kinds… This time, the moment will pass. They hate our kind, the losing tribe – hidden messages are playing on the radio. The reasons that I walked on by – for too many ages, now, we haven’t had nowhere to go. They hate our kind, we don’t have time; turning over cheeks and waiting for the wind to blow. The lost tribe, distraught kinds… Views from below.
3.
Ontology 04:00
Don’t call it giving, this isn't living. The world is spinning. Forever. Forever. Forever... Innocence, we’re falling in love, again. I know we've been here before, I recognize this shoreline. Off to war, we’re falling in line again. I know we've been here before, my brother’s dying. A car has been left on the road, A sunset of rust and petrol. The feeling’s been mutual I know, but, the dogs had their day and they've flown on; Over sand dunes devoid of gulls, A silent spring, no amphibian calls. Into the wastelands, into the earth, we’ll fall. Innocence, we’re falling in love, again. I know we've been here before, I recognize this shoreline. Off to war, we’re falling in line, again. I know we've been here before, my brother’s dying. The footsteps bound of a child, neotenous and divine. So innocent are his eyes, so oblivious to desire; He’ll exempt himself from his time, ‘til he overgrows the divide; Still, he only has so much time, to stand still. Innocence, we’re falling in love, again. I know we've been here before, I recognize this shoreline. Off to war, we’re falling in line, again. I know we've been here before, my brother’s dying.

about

HZR-129, released by HoZac Records. Vinyl copies of the EP are available at hozacrecords.com/2013/03/population/

credits

released March 1, 2013

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Benny Hernandez. Bass.
Gabriel Perez. Guitar.
Jessica Skolnik. Synth.
Julien Cabrera. Drums.
Keelan McMorrow. Vocals

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Population Chicago, Illinois

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