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Dirger

by Learning

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1.
Dirger 06:49
Resting presbyterian, the jangle of your chords offends the bird eye of a higher sense. A lesson learned with tighter pants. I want a goth that god defends and smiles upon her painted ends. Oh trust, i don’t trust! Let her come and clean my friends and bring their mouths a lower bend. Unfurl me in between the cleanse, and history has darker men, and oh to be like that again, and look upon your blood again. A grave, shallow grave! Laugh until your lung's content and body is an empty den and i'm afraid of going in and blowing out your instruments. For they are built of excrement and, baby, you're a deadly sin. Oh tongue, dry tongue! Third on a year end list. Which one’s the one I missed? Hit with a kidding kiss and it’s blissful! It turns me on when you’re trying. I think I’m trying too hard. Is my face reading blue? Is it getting to you? I try to keep it smooth. The pimples don’t seem true when I'm in a good mood. If you're only afraid for a minute... then who's to say you’re okay? I don’t wanna hear you when you’re speaking straight! I don’t wanna see it when you’re crying for me! I was overwhelmed. If this tongue could only taste one tip, it'd be the one that never turned to it. Scrape the chap off my spoon-fed lips and feed it to my thoughtful immigrants! Swimming in sync through a vein on the brink of a scalp, made just for them. I don’t wanna grow! I wanna blow like the snow goin’ over ya! This is the part where the bloom becomes the impasse. Dirger... you brought it on yourself.
2.
I wanna be a behemoth pickin’ stones out my skull! Passin’ out the pits cause I don’t need them all! And I want the room to sip drinks out the gut of my hull, every rotting crutch is a fan of my stuff. And I believe in a man thrusting luck upon himself! And I believe that your culture is conjugal! But I will not invest my stock in a soup that can not feed its pot. I wanna be a behemoth. With feet long and tawny, where the blood beats in longways, and the girls leave their flowers at the toenail. I will accept you, I will accept you and I will dwarf you. My big brother he plays in a rock band and he dont do nothin' without his own two hands! The three of them do the talkin’. My crusted clutter corrodes without compass and if some weathered finger could point its way home I would call out and hold on! When the sun sets in the harbour and your sails become a carpet cakin' dirt I don’t want it to hurt. Nestled out on the water my bow remains unprepared and I’m scared. I’ve seen a great fire rising out of your church and I’ve hoped to god that it burns up my burth. Sleep still and restrained as to not make a mess. My skull’s patriotic, my skin crawls for success. And I’ll extend my crooked borders. And I will sail to you in a sieve. And we shall set our house in order, for we shalt die and we shall not live. I went down to the river and the baptist smiled at me with all his holy teeth glowin’ white! And the weeds seemed inspired by it. I could plant a fleet across nations but my seeds... they can only disappoint, disappoint me. Have a little faith.
3.
Haul Out 03:33
Oh to be bigger than anything, and eat up your tragedies! But I’m just a common king. Oh oddly its the fight to resist me that's giving me blisters now, absurding these sisters now. Oh should this lead secure me a noble steed? Or simply accessory, to dangle my cavities? Oh to be similar, similar, similar oh! I can’t live his week without it! I can’t sleep his winks without it! I'll hold back my breach without it. For what's left but a screen without it? I can see it in his eyes. Pull it out, or i'll pull it out. Haul out your numb corpse, and roll out the new heart!
4.
Beguiler 05:36
Hey, old head friend! I hear cussin’ in my ears again. Those familiar, tragic hands Are lightin’ candles under my bed again. And I’ve been waiting for the last time that I hear your eyes flap shut. And I’ve been waiting for the last time that I don’t know what i want. I’ve been waiting for a withered you to bid me choose. I’m in the slowest mood and I fear it’ll never get to you! I’m in the slowest mood, wrestlin’ in between my cues. Is the beguiler beguiled? Or is he buckin’ his bridle? He sweeps in stealthy and tidal in his demure of arrival. Like a secular centipede, crawls across what he reads but doesn’t think anything, floats through the beckoning. Laps it like Gatorade, sucks it through failing gapes. Chokes on its chilling greys! Colours its early “hey”s! But I can’t place a place to be at peace with it! But I’ll repaint every church wall as adequate! And when its bricks and beams are leaning, severing... I will procreate everything. A second heat across my gummy spleen! A braid to tie my deerhide onto me! Before the sleet takes off my knees, my ponders procreate everything.
5.
Sore Throat 01:31
Sharpen the tips of your tail and, in the chain, give the great white away to a dangling leg shredding the edge of distinction. Be ye an eyelined stare, or the old sheared hair. Be ye manglin', or spittin', the dirge turns repair. So sweat on, cathartics! Beat blood through your words. Or are they your words? Or is it your blood? Oh, appropriate til it’s gone. Become the thin gut. Become the red teeth. Become your sore throat.
6.
Iraqi Emos 05:51
You stayed in bed like a patient. And my arms felt ancient! Biting your dust is leaving me hanging. Crawl through the glass and pick out the shards! I will spit them back. You keep it to yourself! Cutting through my belt! You keep it to yourself! You’ve met your own ends. Yes, I see your trees, pruned like pines before. Do my notes sound dotted? I've found peace where I can cut a rug stretching frowned faces. I don't wanna die poor, I'm gonna cash my sad. But outside of your pockets; A mutual agreement. (Get your own ears, I'm not your mirror) Sleep straight, I hate the spinning! The pound of your blood beats the ringing, The crash of your call smooths the winning! Unfold each part of your sinning. Stepping down and crushing your crux clean Ripping the space out between Your end and my own starting mean Tripping over my fleshy plead Numbering your joints so I can Count the crackings I have left The risk of spilling out your guts Will fodder my reach down your glove My leaning leash leaves your legs sore My flapping fear, your stoic bored I rest my case under your bed Breaking the beams to drain you dead I'm shouting out I'm breathing now We're gonna live forever while I Whisper out my fleeting old: Oh can't you move your feet, they're fucking cold!
7.
Bearer 02:22
Must be something inside my lungs that keeps me searchin' your neck for bumps. Rest assured that I'm impure... so what was that for? I feel impressed upon your state again. My imprint'll avow the brunt of this blistering hymn. Does it all feel like a part of something else? Am I the capsule? Am I the squish before it melts? Still clutchin' my crown i feel impeached upon your bed! I feel the blood run out my head and the gun cold in my hand. Now I settle down between two great big hills! The wind angles down and it gives me chills. Now I face my breath with same stare as a secret friend, is this the brunt before the capsule's life ends? A filling offer sounds like cuckolds in my head. A reserved reminder says it hasn't happened yet. Am I over it? Am I over yet?
8.
So that's it then? A conjugal visit between two gods atop their deathbeds? Oh, it makes such an awful sound! The clouds keep hummin’, but our bracts won't blossom out or cover anything. Some heathen's got his sickle out. My beard's greyin' now and I see your eyes suckin' out my shouts and meltin’ the mountains. It’s the height that always brings us down. So quit movin' round! What would our apostles think if they heard ya cryin’? Don't be fallin' just to feel the ground. Now I don't know what they're gulpin' down there, but i feel culpable. Is that you shoutin’ at the shark infested, unrelentable? I've hardened my eyes again for you to break them even. It's all here for you, the flood is safe in the back room. Move your head hun! You’re takin’ the wind out their gracious sails and upsetting my organs. Get your rain off their port-bow. Our holy hearts above! We’ve gotta set ‘em straight and keep their hope in their pockets. She’s no war without a sense of tao. Am I takin’ an easy out? Am I stronger than I wish or have the calm to abandon? Am I the farmer or the sacred cow? It’s so easy now! To build a church in our spirit and run the guns through the basement. Stay together for the guv’nor's rounds. On god finding god, I’ve got a lot of honest thoughts set against a dirged up parking lot. But... then again. Amen! World without end!
9.
I fear that I've fucked the airplane out of you. But, what’s true to a lord of such virtue? Impeached upon treats, I feel tang in my sweet. Is there something I've learned to release? I feel reposed inside something and i feel a lot of it. Leavin’ you hangin's left streaks across your armpits. Or are they from huggin' every inch of mutual soil? Was that bed even a plot that i could foil? I feel unseemly when you greet me with respect. Can't ya hear the sweat evaporating yet? Bring the wood into the firepit, I wanna read your face. But when you're only afraid for a minute… who's to say you're okay? Not me!
10.
Eucharia, I’ve got a Eucharis for you. Tragedy doth call for me. Contrition's sins breed thicker ink. So, Fénelon, feed your dolphin a shame to kick the child away. Intrude upon the drain. As if you're cookin' with a cleaver, caress your curse's savior. Lately my eye's been twitchin'. It hardly sits patrician. Pray scales to pry it open and, in affront, please promotion. So, acrobats, invade my organs! Push and pulse in a canopy of cancers to liquefy the answers to a riddle thought simple and light. The ease becomes the fight. How does a seeded bed know if it's lifting up? In poems left unread I paint the pale upon my pinkness. So, universe, leave me useless, ignorant of the increments i'm shiftin'. Deplete the clouds their rift! The looseness of the layers does my bidding, but the lines are not my own. Should I be comfortable in my corroding car? Should the dynamite be bringin’ this bridge warmth? Oh, cavalry, bore me brightly! I'm taking the fortune with a fuck you. I'm leasing the lift. I'm succeeding prayers with profit. I've furnished my tragic flaw. I'm drawing the curtains, told you I'd be a while. I'm leaving the lights off, told you I'd be a while. I’m airing your boots out, told you I'd be a while. I'm running to you now, told you I'd be a while. So cringe with me, cousin! Sigh with me, sister! Dirge with me, baby! Does it start when I'm succumbing? Does it end when I'm attracting? Is it all in the middle? Is it all in the middle?

about

--

Take this front like a cuss in unison.
Dirge with me, baby.

--

credits

released July 24, 2015

Learning is:
Vocals, guitar, trumpet - Caleb McKend
Bass, vocals - Avery Downes
Drums - William Sinclair

Vocals on tracks 1, 2, 7 and 10 - Catherine Kennedy
Choir on track 1 - Angel Bustard, Mike Keir, Eric Ringuette, Julia Sheehan, Rachelle Smith

Recorded and mastered by Corey Bonnevie
Mixed by Corey Bonnevie and Caleb McKend

Cover photo by William Sinclair

Special thanks to Stuart Buckley

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Sharktooth Records Saint John, New Brunswick

Syndicating the sounds from the bowels of the Bay of Fundy

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