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Sessions with Molly

by Blood Like the Atlantic

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1.
Icarus Wings 03:25
When the snow melts and Boston thaws it will not matter how I felt, And as the creature lifts its claws I can only hope that it finds my throat. 'Cause I can't see winning with an empty heart in lieu of fists and I see no reason that I should be a part of this. Our demons have destroyed this thing; I am flying with Icarus wings. Paralyzed at the end of the road we've nothing to say and nothing to show. The carpet is stained and the blood is our own, and soon we'll set a direct course for the sun And as we're burning up we'll see flocks of birds just desperate to be free. But year after year they find themselves enslaved, so they count the years 'til they earn a grave. Can we carry on? Will we carry on? Why should we carry on? Who will know if we're gone? But I can't watch you drown, my friend. I won't let you slip away. I won't let you down, my friend- I will find a way.
2.
At 2 o' clock we were happy here By 3 we were all in tears By 5, though, I'm sure we will all forget That our world had come undone just two hours ago When it comes down to it The choice seems easy. No games of checkers No time for chess We prefer Russian Roulette The next day was the hardest and still it's one I regret. Though I can't remember I'm sure there was something we missed. But it doesn't matter The book is finished, the author dead It sold a million copies though marking his death a success. So we'll sing and we'll dance and we'll drink and we'll laugh all the while dying inside. We took the journey before we were told that there would be no way back. But still we're all cowards so no one will say that they want to go back home. After all, the devil told us it would feel better this way. 25 years isn't long enough but it seems that it's all that we get it's a shame I must admit. But the devil feels no regret. I can not remember what we were aiming for but it's clear that we missed the mark. Though we seemed successful then I forgot to remember to forget. So now no on this cold, grey night we look up hoping to see stars but all we get is a persistent reminder of just how far we can fall. I forgive you though it was all my fault. Some call it art, but here's the tragedy: the book was read by no one at all. So we'll sing and we'll dance and we'll drink and we'll laugh all the while dying inside. We took the journey before we were told that there would be no way back. But still we're all cowards so no one will say that they want to go back home. After all, the devil told us it would feel better this way.

about

One man, one guitar, a laptop mic, and Audacity.

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released January 27, 2013

Chris Puzzo- Nylon string guitar, vocals, trumpet

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Blood Like the Atlantic Boston, Massachusetts

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