Demos

by Shoreline Is

Demos cover art
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03:52
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released 23 April 2011

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Track Name: Living Things
Lay on the asphalt
warming my face
searching intently
for living things

Our world has a faultline
(It) swallows itself
Craving intently
For living things

A mouth full of brave words
No lips to speak
Since it’s fleeting and floating
Simply out of reach

I just can’t stay now
It ain’t my style
(An) hour for us now
A lifetime to go

A festive occasion
That’s too good to last
An hour for talking
A lifetime to pass

A mouth full of brave words
No lips to speak
Since it’s fleeting and floating
Simply out of reach
Track Name: Off The World
Eversince we are holy fools
Trapped in bodies that
Just do not work right
At all

See, we’re not blind at night
Oh we can walk straight lines
But it doesn’t feel right
At all

A little off the world
Slowly off the world
So off the world
Wouldn’t hurt me

We’re held subliterate
There are sounds we make
That just can‘t sound right
At all

Would you cut off eye contact
When you don’t want to act
Shy and diffident
At all

A little off the world
Slowly off the world
So off the world
Wouldn’t hurt me
Track Name: French Leave
Spring has come, I am leaving
(For) sunny grounds, I am dreaming
Ambition's not enough to sort it out
Get out of here
Just get out of here


Seems so much
like I want to go
That's German stuff
I'm scared to know

Scared too much
to just want to go
That's German stuff
I'm scared to know


Saw this town getting evil
(It) shakes me up, when I'm dreaming
Heard doctors say that it's not save to breathe
Get out of here
Just get out of here


Seems so much
like I want to go
That's German stuff
I'm scared to know

Scared too much
(to) just want to go
That's German stuff
I'm scared to know
Track Name: I'd Hear the Clouds Move
She breaths so gently
Boy I'd hear the clouds move
if nothing else

(she) warned me so frankly
Boy, I just stopped breathing
if nothing helped


I feel sorry for myself
with a slow-selling smile in between my deafening ears
how has it felt all through the years
oh whatever, ever

I feel sorry for myself
by next week I will be at the end of all that glitters
how has it felt all through the years
yea whatever, ever


minor, my diner
boy, I'd eat a cloud now
if nothing else

blue sky, you kill my
former aspirations
and nothing helps

find me, don't mind me
be my guest tomorrow
up in my room

fair days, in stairways
(well) you should miss them
just waiting out


I feel sorry for myself
with a slow-selling smile in between my deafening ears
how has it felt all through the years
oh whatever, ever

I feel sorry for myself
by next week I will be at the end of all that glitters
how has it felt all through the years
yea whatever, ever