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Self Titled

by April O'neil

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1.
last night i imagined myself, as a private investigator i slept early on my tiny bed, a mountain mattress by my lonesome, quiet and searched the radio by my lonesome, quiet and searched the radio now the light is pooling on the leaves, the wind is squirreling through the house is asleep, bodies recovering from toxins lonesome, quiet and searched the radio by me lonesome, looking for something new to say up and down up and down the hallways and the streets knocking hushes whispers quiet and quick up and down up and down the hallways and the streets knocking hushes whispers quiet and quick you sit with a map on your lap, create fantastic worlds i think i must be afraid of death, i wonder if i'm melancholic lonesome, quiet and searched the radio by my lonesome, break windows with pebbles for the thrill of the sound when it cracks
2.
Knuckles 02:48
say you say you wanna go for a ride say you want me by your side tell me you like the pit in your throat and for it you would die chokin chokin like bottle neck on a root that tugs so sweet hey you hey i wanna be with you grip tight and knuckles white i'll twist you twisted up into my braid and swing you out of here fold you up into a paper boat rip apart on a wind so fierce we'll fade away with phantom pains and flicker light years away you'll rain on me with phantom drops and soak me invisibly if you're thinkin of leaving me you best be on your way do me a favour unshackle me and make it quick and fast smearing paint to cover your scent and you say you wanna be friends hey you hey when you see my ghost make sure you're not alone i'll twist you twisted up into my braid and swing you out of here fold us up into a paper boat rip apart on a wind so fierce you'll rest your cheeks in puddles and potholes trying to lose the guilt fill the space with sights and sounds that make you fall asleep
3.
White Lies 02:35
its impossible to be true all the time so i whistle the call of the wild wind of deceit we conjure up smokescreens, projections of fact everyday and we waltz to each others vanity its okay we slip and fall flat over fickle emotions all the time and trip over ourselves day in and day out when you tell me you've got tricks up your sleeve it scares me maybe i'm simple you know i like magic but it blinds me when i'm not careful trouble comes knockin me down i can't find the words to express how i feel so i lie at first its just funny i want to impress so it seems but then you get too close its always just too close too close its too real its too real its too real for me when the clock strikes the time its too real and i can't compete
4.
The Night 02:43
the night, it hung like a dead man's mystery the luck of the living was lynched from the stars the moon, it whimpered and wobbled as it waned i rocked in my soiled bed for you we drowned, in a sea of leaves after the fall the slow death of colour made greyscales of you the dark clung to my eyelids like dust to first dew i dug a fresh grave for you the night, it hummed like a secret factory lockets of hair fell from the sky cobwebs grew over my mouth and my eyes we chewed our nails down to the bone

about

This album is lovingly dedicated to the memory of Nora P. Norrington, the first true animal friend i made in life so far.
Special thanks to: Marjie Francis for being so wonderful, and Sarah Mangle for gifting me ol' Harry Ann all those years ago.

credits

released February 1, 2012

*All sounds made and conceived of by April O'neil and Harry Ann.
*All songs written by April O'neil, except: Sherlock Writes to Watson I: Words by Larissa Diakiw
*All artwork by April O'neil

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April O'neil Nelson, British Columbia

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