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We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

We Are Not​.​.​.​Friends

by tudors

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1.
Time’s adjusted to the window we worship (light) the way it frames the day ignoring real life like sickness cause we’re fucked without it anyway we kill the things we love Fast moves of a shadow boxer Shy room of a shadow boxer no fists before or after (and no) blood’s coming out Fast moves of a shadow boxer Shy room of a shadow boxer no fists before or after (and no) blood’s coming out A simple practice amputation of small essentials that make us want to leave we fix routines around our broken parts and then eliminate our cravings, for some fiction of truth Fast moves of a shadow boxer Shy room of a shadow boxer no fists before or after (and no) blood’s coming out Fast moves of a shadow boxer Shy room of a shadow boxer no fists before or after (and no) blood’s coming out FUCK! Fast moves of a shadow boxer Shy room of a shadow boxer no fists before or after (and no) blood’s coming out We cut our own teeth faster We cut our own teeth faster We cut our own throats faster but no blood’s coming out.
2.
Should my heart burst into a firework of red and blue RUN FOR THE FUCKING HILLS Let the flies do a swing dance all around my filthy head KEEP ME EMBOSSED IN BLACK the walls will be a freezer #10 a cold grave a carpeted coffin BURY ME FACE DOWN AND TUCKED where no one will find me no one will find a beat with severed fingers pocketed IN MY OWN AFTERMATH Crickets and violins Sing me a serenade As my face turns blue BREATHING LESS FRANTIC THIS TIME as red muscle slips through my teeth but it feels so very good CLENCHED TO THE WRITHE OF THE SKIN and now I see a comet heading toward my face to bury everything in sight STILL IN THE NIKES I BOUGHT where no one will find me no one will find a beat my severed fingers pocketed Clenched throat for the win, cinched choke for the loss, i’m losing my grip i’m riding this thing Clenched throat for the win, cinched choke for the loss, i’m losing my grip The comet is lost
3.
That’s right! Told you, “Fuck out of my house!” I was a man at your age So what if my life passed me by?
4.
I led you to water I filled up your cup I led you to water I filled up your cup I took you to nourish Still filled your cup Overflown on your fingers That's enough Fucking Pigs You’ll drink the swill I give you step out onto the midnight sidewalk Knuckle under rasping your name over the streetlight kingdom Knuckle under two syllables split this town in half Knuckle under Rubber stretching taught as a synapse Knuckle under severed down the middle busted bones abandoned blocks and boarded windows doors locked tight, empty sockets every corner concrete courtroom I led you to water I wrote on your walls BALTIMORE!!!
5.
Coda 04:41
...and then you see me as I’m running away a single orbit and a flurry of legs of course you’re holding your breath like a fish out of pasture for mere moments after it again the moments gone and moving away your broken movements gonna force you to stay so then you’re part of the crowd as now becomes distant, you’re the only one missing it You only get in the way You're just a mediocre distraction So then we know it like its carved out of clay lines connected to develop a face our arms outstretched and trace the shape with our fingers eyes as open wounds again the moments gone and moving away your broken movements gonna force you to stay so then you’re part of the crowd as now becomes distant, you’re the only one missing it You only get in the way You're just a mediocre distraction Thank you for waiting, sitting there patiently the star attraction like a tidal wave comes rushing in through every crevice and opening to wash away the stain An image of a replica composed of preassemblage caustic lost it and I’m the only one losing sleep An image of a replica Composed of preassemblage Want that? Really all that? What the fuck does that even mean? An image of a replica Composed of preassemblage Want that? Really all that? What the fuck does that even mean?
6.
Dead Books 04:45
Rusted spirals in the spine of notebooks houses dead skin of my fingers I can’t read my words my handwriting anymore Paper cuts bite me like dobermans as I tear out pages where I was a superman I can’t read my words my handwriting anymore I’ve had enough of these words, its soma’s not working this time I’ve had enough of these words, its soma’s not working this time I’ve had enough... ...of this Picture perfect poetry that permeates through blurry teenage angst. I can’t read my words my handwriting anymore Why can’t pages swell with emptiness with no reminders of a better day. I can’t read my words my handwriting anymore Anemic, leather bound. Wedding bells on mute. Planets that I made are bursting. I can’t read my words my handwriting anymore I’ve had enough of these words, its soma’s not working this time I’ve had enough of these words, its soma’s not working this time I don’t want to hide between blue lines watching clocks spill ink all over everything I don’t want to hide between blue lines watching clocks spill ink all over everything everything everything everything everything Planets are bursting as I float through other people’s stars. Planets are bursting as I float through other people’s stars. Planets are bursting as I float through other people’s stars. Planets are bursting with no one to pull me out from outer space. Now I keep these matches close to blank pages because I don’t know if I have anything left to say that matters…
7.
Antemeridian 03:58
Baby is floating up stream faced down in the water, but I swear it’s only swimming, learning the ropes— the things we never taught it. So look away just let the cold soak kiss your ankles lightly just like your lips on my lips lately; slightly ajar, sucking all the warmth from my tongue, (still) mighty (and) screams for the child, “You are going to be just fine on your own.” Daylight is protection that it needs to shield itself from the wolves hiding in the woods, but they have no teeth— I swear they have no teeth to tear our seed apart, they’ll just use their gums to massage the soft spots lightly just like your lips on my lips lately; slightly ajar, sucking all the warmth from my tongue, (still) mighty (and) screams for the child, “You are going to be just fine on your own.” You’re only scared cuz you’re rewriting things we never did. In your head, the world stopped spinning a long, long time ago But you lose your mind over water barely touching your ankles So stop thinking, and dance with me again and again and againagainagianiangaignaignaignagain (Because) you...you said this would last forever. you...you said this would last forever. you...you said this would last forever. You said this would last.
8.
Your hand slips from the beams load bearing, unequal and heaving shored up twigs, leaves, and dirt Fuck off your (fixed) point spinning the earth framed alone Distance Removed from needs and wants unattached solid ground for a weekend shifting roof for a day fisher king never blinking no flame for the clay your foot slips from hillsides Land erodes toil No fulcrum, counters your long dead fall your shit turns to soil your (fixed) point spinning the earth Distance Removed from needs and wants cold dead hands solid ground for a weekend shifting roof for a day fisher king never blinking no flame for the clay Raised up! Raised up! Force fed! Raised up! Force fed! Sacrificed! Raised up! Force fed! Sacrifice! Sprouting!
9.
Wrap lips around fractured glass it’s better than therapy Crust the air with dirty dollars watch smoke turn into little birds watch the walls strip like orange peels swimming in your rum watch no one bat an eye You! Are! Gonna! Die! You! Are! Gonna! Die! Swap your blood with kerosene pull cigarettes from your chest blow smoke through jaundice teeth coat the gums in a pretty yellow Keep the matchbooks close to your skin burn track marks off just like a scab watch no one bat an eye You! Are! Gonna! Die! You! Are! Gonna! Die! Sink your tongue in a prostitute It’s so much better than eating food Stick a needle through a burning tube it’s so much better than our love for you Don’t let curses drag you down they bounce off you, stick to me like glue. Sink your tongue in a prostitute because I've got no fucking respect for you. You are gonna die. You are gonna die. You are gonna die. You are gonna die with cocaine spewing from your nose like snowfall got you writhing on the floor like an angel transplant from suburbia with acid eaten hair but, fuck it, you’re a rebel. You might feel safe face down in an ocean with boots lined across the back of your neck. You don’t hear the sloshing in your lungs so light it up light it up light it up, mother fucker.
10.
27 03:59
You are gone that is that but what I am supposed to do with these ashes on my hands? They are glued like glitter from coagulated bloodstains on my fingertips coated for good. I DON’T NEED THIS! It had been so long since my voice jumped to your ears sowed, “I’m here if you need me” words wilted and black. “How was London? How was Paris?” things I’ll never get to ask. Even if they were pathological lies on a computer screen. I DON’T NEED THIS! Now you'll never have to see your mother cry. Now you'll never have to see your mother cry. Do you feel better being a ghost washing your sister’s carpet; watching no stains come out of it? If you had asked politely I would have brought you bleaches and soaps, but you are gone; that is fucking that. AND I... I DON'T... I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT! If I slapped the magazine out of your hand took away the ice in my quiet lied with you on the floor solidarity staring at the ceiling with the lights out with warm bodies burning out bullets... no, it could have been me... ...it should have been me... I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry it came to this.
11.
A meteor the size of Venus on its way A small descendant of some lost forgotten age Soaring quickly to our orbit Flying swiftly to our path Things are under way and we’re no cosmonauts Run for cover quickly children Cover both your eyes and ears Quiet now it'll soon be over Before tomorrow's disappeared The world’s a dumpster baby compared to what it was Tools made of bones and teeth, and the currency is blood The only people left aren’t people Only animals to fare And we invited it We asked the void For all the shit it brought Run for cover quickly children Cover both your eyes and ears Quiet now it'll soon be over Before tomorrow's disappeared This Armageddon our own virus the cure beneath our tongue [TERMINATOR]
12.
Postmeridian 06:09
I’m trying so hard to be here to find warmth in your ring finger the way a baby palms adults for sanctuary. It pins a smile on my face like tacks holding a map of places we said we would go. I’m trying so hard to let my sweater slip off my shoulders and let your hands carve away the frost from my back, but steam rolls off like breath in cold and I’m just turning your fingers blue. Admit it: I am hurting you. I’m trying so hard to try so hard to stop saying, “I’m ok. I’m ok. I’m ok. Stop asking me.” But please stop staring daggers into me. Where did the tenderness go? You left me with wariness...all this weariness. And I just want to claw out your eyes Just want to claw out your eyes Just want to claw out your fucking eyes so that I can stop lying to them Please take this time To let me run the way my mascara bleeds when I look in the mirror and see that you're not the same, See that I'm not the same. We are complete Strangers. So please take this time to be mad at me. It is ok to be mad at me because I haven’t been honest for such a long fucking time, but I swear to Christ that I don’t hate you. You’re the best anyone could ask for and you gave me my favorite years of life. You’re the best anyone could ask for and I hope you make some lucky girl happy someday. I’m trying so hard to help you burst out of your skin— but not like a disease turns flesh to blood— more like a cocoon that’s ready to fly away from stagnation. But I do not need you to stand right next to me now that we’re all out of light and we can still hear the wolves. We can still hear our voices Are not the same We are complete strangers. I am someone else and you are someone else, so let’s be someone else away from each other. Because when we’re somebody else entirely, maybe we can reconvene someday and laugh about it then? [You were my sunshine my only sunshine you made me happy when skies were gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I loved you until you took my sunshine away.]

about

Tracks recorded by ourselves using any mic we could find or afford and at various locations in Los Angeles county, including:

Musician's Choice Studios, Culver City
Cide Show, Gardena
7Studios, Long Beach
Greenhouse Music Studios, Long Beach [R.I.P.]
Tint and Audio Xperts, Artesia [this is a body shop in case you want your car windows tinted]
Marcus' Apartment, Long Beach [literally the guitarist's apartment]

Mixed and Mastered by:
James Goldmann at StruckHouse Studios

Album art by:
Chris Page

credits

released July 28, 2017

Tudors are:

Marcus Clayton [Guitar and Vocals]
David Diaz [Bass and Vocals]
Chris Page [Drums]

All songs and lyrics written by Tudors.

Spiritual guidance by:
Kevin Parker

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tudors Long Beach, California

P.O.C. fronted Noise Punk from the Los Angeles area. Always lower case the "t."

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