This Is Seven

by Musical Mathematics

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  • Immediate download of 32-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.

     

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Big thanks to all the bands, record labels, PR companies, and other kind music folk who helped make this compilation possible. All rights and credit go to the bands and their respected record labels.

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released 16 May 2014

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Musical Mathematics UK

Online alternative-music zine based in Leeds, dedicated to bringing you the very best in break-through artists and bands.

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Track Name: Invalids - Tiny Coffins
Tiny Coffins
All music and lyrics written by Pete Davis
Performed by Pete Davis and Nick Shaw
Backing vocals by Garrett Botkins and Jon Lervold


Lyrics:
Back seat, windows up
The motion makes you sick
Forehead leaned against
The coldest pane, collecting as you breathe

The empty overpass, with three more to go, two hours in
And every song was saying it, beating it in, beat it to death
And you decided then that this time was different,
That is was time to finally try it
Even though it never worked before
Even though itís never gonna work
Itís the best weíve got, itís the best chance for us now

And it could not come soon enough
In the back seat on the way home

It wasnít that we saw it all through cracks of doors,
Itís that they felt it as we watched

Head rush, pounding, blushed and found out, hid all night

If we would work on what we know
If we could stop expecting it
All things we chase even though theyíre not ours

The fold in the fabric frays from feeling out its shape
Pressed until itís gone, if only we could change
The paths in the dark weíve beaten down before
But never in the light, how itís really paved
If only we could say what we really meant to say
If only we could listen to it right
If only we could spill it to her just what we were thinking
If only we could say the right thing, if only we could change

The patterns weíve formed
That never found their way out

Keep it close, safe secret all alone

So you wrote it down and you threw it out
And you wrote it down and you threw it out
And you practiced how you wanted to sound
And you steeled yourself, and your heart was pounding
Up out of your chest and choking, stuffed into your throat
And your fumbled words and your sweaty shirt
And your shaking made it worse, and heard
ìFlow, tide, ebb, road, night, sky, sand, homeî
And you thought if you tried hard enough
it would work cause itís different now
The overpass, the empty road, the courage just to say something
If we could just have had more time,
If we could just have had it figured out