The Land Colored Red

by Ghost Atlantic

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1.
07:49
Picture what you will Safety and foreign films As a light goes on far from here It’s burning still These lines, a tortured face Like shadows in empty space Lover, I wish you well But I run like hell Chorus: I hope you’re keeping score I hope you’re keeping score I hope you’re keeping score Of the little things that burn us alive Dawn burns, a twisted silence As the rain it falls to claim the panic These bruises I know won’t heal These hanging ghosts Hollow as shorelines fade Like promises so quick to fail us So scatterbrain, I lose my pace And burn inside myself Repeat Chorus
2.
07:45
[Instrumental]
3.
Finger frozen triggers, breathing down our necks Red eyes in the distance, it’s a delicate balance A delicate balance Rotten like a sickness, and pulling out our teeth As children play the difference, chasing our last breath Chasing our last breath Chorus: (If you want me I’ll be waiting...the time will pass and fade) I can never tell if I’m invisible Or if I just look like everyone else (If you want me I’ll be waiting...the time will pass and fade) Harbor socket life can be so miserable If you’re just out of reach of the secrets of the salt (If you want me I’ll be waiting...the time will pass and fade) Only time can cure you, a rope or shattered glass Caught beyond an instant, it’s a dangerous moment A dangerous moment Shrieking through the silence, falling through the ice Children play the difference, it’s a delicate balance A delicate balance Repeat Chorus End Chorus: (If you want me I’ll be waiting...the time will pass and fade) I can never tell if I’m invisible Or if i just look like everyone else (If you want me I’ll be waiting...the time will pass and fade) I’ve never been the king of anything But you can name me the prince of bad timing (Watch the light as it is fading...the days will end the same)
4.
07:19
[Instrumental]
5.
06:22
[Instrumental]
6.
08:17
I’ll take the good life A sure thing on safety line Walls high that will not bend Endless days, no reckoning Chorus: No escape No escape No escape A rising tide is held at bay Cracked neon walls hide broken faith Painted lands and firefights Twisted limbs and sleepless nights Repeat Chorus So familiar, the familiar end So easy, these desperate patterns So familiar, the familiar end So easy to forget that i am anything As the siren wails, reminding me to breathe A siren is shrieking, it’s leading me to ruins So familiar, the familiar end So easy, these desperate patterns So familiar, so familiar, So familiar to me
7.
[Instrumental]
8.
08:37
Just how well can you play second fiddle? That song in your head goes mostly unheard Do you have love, or does it have you? Your porcelain heart trampled in ashes Now you’re gone, and so is my summer Left me by the road between Central and Russell If you look back, well don’t be mistaken That monkey on your back looks nothing like me Chorus: Republic of thieves, afraid of police Self-medication has become our disease Fingernails of reason across the chalkboard of treason White-lined indifference could be our new season Stranger in the mirror was your best friend Now a lousy thief with a taste for blood As we pass through every new town The ones that fade behind gain a melancholy crown Repeat Chorus Vines will crawl deep into the city Pillars of glass tarnished to ivy Turns the high-rises into hedges Within the high-rises there’ll be a room for me Repeat Chorus
9.
05:15
[Instrumental]
10.
06:43
A world with its alibis Mothers sing broken hearts Lovers abandon hope Children lay alone with ghosts Pray for the night to fade Darkness comes in slow decay Chaos then stillness grows Soft light comes as morning glows Only the tide Only the tide can tame Only the tide Only the tide can tame

credits

released January 20, 2015

Recorded over ten days between February and August 2014 at Acadia Recording Company in Portland, Maine

Produced, engineered and mixed by Todd Hutchisen

Mastered by Pat Keane at PKM in Portland, Maine


All music written by Ghost Atlantic
©2015 Ten Pounds of Hits in a Five Pound Bag Music (BMI)

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Ghost Atlantic Seattle, Washington

Writing a band bio is the worst.

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