1. |
||||
|
He was growing fast, training hard, but the opponents didn't gain any fun.
He really heard his tasks into a glass bell, even though his team would have drag him to hell.
The coach yelled, he wanted more from him: was it just a ring or some sort of ordeal?
Now that he cries, he realizes that good feet don't imply a good life.
And the truth spoke clearly by the evening: compromise was what he was searching for.
Lost the spirit, he obtained some feeling as life fled away.
The worst midfielder is the best goalkeeper
when inside the field there's a door he can't see.
Hatred in the crowd, and there is no hideout:
He cannot perceive what he wants to achieve.
The worst midfielder is the best goalkeeper
as he finds himself with his head in the sand.
Every now and then we reach a goal
in which we no longer believe, and we fall.
And he scrapes through by cleaning out his mind
from the deep, tiny ocean of his lies.
The closer they come, the more he learns to sense
mistakes and your friends, they often kill yourself.
The worst midfielder is the best goalkeeper
when inside the field there's a door he can't see.
Hatred in the crowd, and there is no hideout.
He cannot perceive what he wants to achieve.
The worst midfielder is the best goalkeeper
as he finds himself with his head in the sand.
Every now and then we reach a goal
in which we no longer believe, and we fall, and we fall, and we fall, we have to fall.
|
||||
2. |
Boulangerie
04:22
|
|||
|
I heard you do not love bread, but sometimes you should take a bite.
Those pies are damaging you, and mental health goes in loop;
So stay calm, eat your chips, don't sweat, you're just a sweet, fat, sweet fat man.
No one looks at the rise and fall of your exit poll;
And I know you're weak, I'd give an hand if you were not so ordinary
I'm not the best you have met, that's a matter of fact;
Floating with the certainty of having learned on our bugs
doesn't make us more charmer than we've ever been before.
Pickles, Pringles, Lindors, starving for another meal
Bellyache won't fail, but you wait for the next plate;
Are you serious? Are you reliable? I don't think so:
and still the undersigned doesn't go away;
I'm starting to get hungry, surely is a virus.
I've been erased by the world our mind displays.
Floating with the certainty of having learned on our bugs
doesn't make us more charmer than we've ever been before.
Boulangerie, boulangerie, where have you been?
Was your taste always a reason to worship you?
No doubt your lack made us love things we didn't feel the need.
Yet the very first man was born with the force to not to be
What he did supposed to be.
|
||||
3. |
Fail at Failing
06:26
|
|||
|
“This shall not pass”: the promise you use to make.
Scenes of my life I've seen so many times.
After all, watching your lifestyle, peculiar and worthy of a lot of smiles,
I have to say I'd like to see the way you should pass away.
You fail and lie, you fail and lie, and do not dare to walk behind.
And I admit I'm eager to look at your death, but then I'd cry.
Should I forget your presence and the tears of your parents,
I could be better, but life would get weaker.
Consider my weakness, and value my hardness:
why don't you talk? It's not the way to feel alive.
Oh, people like you must be admired.
You fail and lie, you fail and lie, and do not dare to walk behind.
And I admit I'm eager to look at your death, but then I'd cry.
Should I forget your presence and the tears of your parents,
I could be better, but life would get weaker.
The fail you carry will kill my heart
The fail you carry will kill my heart
The fail you carry will kill my heart
The fail you carry will kill my heart
|
||||
4. |
Esenin and The Rice Man
04:00
|
|||
|
“Your backache is not new, in this grave I've got it too.
I died when I was young, yet I claimed what was mine.
Sex has pleasured me with its sorrow, I was humiliated by my own
flighty loves, so pretentious: but I always hoped for a change.
Don't listen to what they say, you have to plug your ears.
Your boots are immersed in the water and your feet pretend to walk.
We are both fathers, our sons deserve to know what it means
Humanity. It's a keyword always lost.
I was shocked by my age.. The shock was my age..
The poorest man in the whole world, he won't listen to me.”
The rice man makes a question mark.
|
||||
5. |
||||
|
It's like when you play a game where tongues are better than names.
The same when they raise a wall, cynic as the last of my songs.
Then they would serve to me the same kiss on my lips.
And nobody cares if I love to live or I'd like to revive.
Politeness is a style most of us deny:
Between the truths that we use to make shine a light of a false desire.
So choose a saint to pray, and drop down your lies of clay:
Brought us here the story we left behind.
Internment is not a solution to celebrate this sad communion.
But we play at the station, so we die by motion.
Many years have passed but those fears come from the past.
Somehow we survive, while other people lie.
Maybe it's a state of affairs which I cannot bear.
Neither in my room I'm safe, but I've got to prevail.
Politeness is a style most of us deny:
I could extinguish our fires, but I can't turn a candle into a flame.
So choose a saint to pray, you've got to lose the nature of this embrace:
Brought us here the story we left behind.
Internment is not a solution, to celebrate this sad communion.
But we play at the station, so we die by motion.
Speaking, looking into our eyes is a choice we don't find inside
Because outside we meet, eager to see each other so weak.
I wanted to say we've got a demon inside,
and sometimes our violent fragrance reminds us how mean we are.
No need to be serious, just clean your eyes and try not to sigh:
always our violent fragrance reminds us how mean we are.
|
||||
Reuters Hates The Stringers Latina, Italy
I Reuters Hates The Stringers si formano a Latina nel gennaio 2011.
Abbiamo pubblicato sinora un demo nel
2011 e il nostro EP di debutto, "L'Amour Fou", disponibile qui su Bandcamp.
Le nostre influenze sono diverse e beatamente caotiche, come le personalità musicali e non di ognuno di noi: The Smiths, Sonic Youth, Radiohead, Primus, Sufjan Stevens, Jimi Hendrix, Joy Division e molto cantautorato.
... more
If you like Reuters Hates The Stringers, you may also like:
Summer Moon
by There Will Be Fireworks
Yearning and anthemic post-rock from Glasgow, where marvelously tense verses explode into radiant choruses.
go to album
Ottawa duo Paragon Cause craft songs that occupy the space between goth and dream pop, with sublime melodies drifting in guitar haze.
go to album
The Gainesville emo band work through grief and mental illness with honest, empathetic hooks and dynamic guitars.
go to album
Another Side of The Seams
by The Seams
The Seams' jangly pop is full of lovely melodic twists and elegant turns-of-phrases delineating the quotidian details of love and romance.
go to album
This debut from the experimental rock and electronic music duo is filled with eclectic sounds and collaborations.
go to album
The Bees Knees: A Compilation For Dan
by Various
The proceeds of this extensive compilation of punk and rock go towards the healthcare costs of beloved musician Dan Wild-Beesley.
go to album
Wives Tales & Hymns of the Earth
by Porchlight
Porchlight dish out smart and edgy post-punk, the kind where wry lyrics are spoken-sung over jittery guitars.
go to album
