I am flawed in the mirror image of perfection, an abomination of this earth. We could have been so much more. So let the water rise. So let the water rise higher than your expectations of me. Crash against the foundation you've built this plague upon. So let the water rise. I am the cause of all your ailments. I've learned you love what makes you ill. The disappointment I've bestowed could fill this room. So what's an eye for an eye? We all bear the cross for those that we love to hate. Trudge through the desert for 40 blistering days with just your pride to keep you from sleep. How far is this from debauchery? In silence we hide our sins, while giving praise to the one we're created in. So let the water rise. I am the blue eyed perversion of a whole man's life undone. I am the cause of all your ailments. I've learned you love what makes you ill. Lie in a pool of subjectivity. Deny the core of what drives the worst inside of me. The tallest pillars always seem to have the hardest fall to take.
from Presents: Mother Tongue
released August 2, 2013
Written and performed by 1876.
Recorded/Engineered by Brandon Wiard at Backseat Productions.
Mixed by Adam Cox at Brooksfield Gentlemen's Club.
Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side Music.
all rights reserved