1. |
|
|||
2. |
02.The Sum of Chains
03:45
|
|
||
|
What it means and what it takes,
Could completely be two different things,
And what if they don’t intersect at the same place
Well I think it starts at the sums
Well does that leave you and me even in the same space?
Or does that mean we’d have to change our characters day to day?
Well you know I’d change
Well you know I’d change…
I’d change the math of the chains that enslave us,
I’d change the math of the chains that enslave us
Well man, that’s a lot to think on,
As I split the page with my thumb,
I stared so long at the questions
That the answers seemed dumb,
And these dreams are a lesson not to get lost in my thoughts,
Well think it starts at the sums
I want to divide your long division into poems and songs,
I want to add and subtract our energies to the feeling of a touch of a palm
And we got ideas on what we could become,
On what we could become…
Well you know I’d change
Well you know I’d change…
It’s strange that chains stay the same,
But there what change us
|
||||
3. |
03.Darling
03:54
|
|
||
|
Being in a good mood could get you in trouble here,
It’s like the days are concrete waves,
But I’m trying to shape the way they bury me under
The haze of everything feeling the same,
And your lack of faith doesn’t make you less attractive
Like a crumpled note in a pocket coat,
It means you have a secret in,
Hidden in this place
And darling it doesn’t mean it’s not exhausting
Asking questions that no one wants to hear
Were you strange when you were a child?
Did you get silent to hide the flint that you never lit?
Now can you even find it?
Are you scared now, that your heart could catch on fire?
When you’re out of bounds making loud sounds,
Deceiving all these preachers,
That you’re still a believer
Banging your head against the ground of theological disaster
This me writing a letter
And this me dropping it down a well
And I hope it finds you down there
And darling it doesn’t mean it’s not exhausting
Asking questions that no one wants to hear
|
||||
4. |
04.After I Died
03:16
|
|
||
|
With no paper around and you laying in my arms
There seems to be no way for me to write
What I think that I need to say
You’re asleep anyways,
So I stay awake and contemplate the different ways
That I got to this place
But you mumble in your in sleep,
And that’s not right of me,
Like reading someone’s diary
An invasion of privacy
After I died,
I never felt so alive
And now I want to
Do it all the time
I’m lucky that you’re my friend
I’m lucky that your mom and dad
That they made you happen
And the story’s not too old,
Not too old to be told,
And I want to summon up the songs
That are the sums of what you’re made of
And I hope that’s helping you,
With the visions you’ve been,
That you’ve been mumbling through
|
||||
5. |
05.Imaginary Certainty
04:06
|
|
||
|
There are worse things than feeling lost
There were times where I didn’t like where I belonged
But I don’t feel that way when you whisper your name into my palm
And the ground we stand on was built upon the imaginary certainty we had created of
A future tense we had only spoken of,
To have it crumble at our feet,
What an exciting way to meet
With a heart bleeding led,
And covered in ferment
You swear that you saw something grow
Well we’ve been told to shut up and stop dreaming
Well I say let’s shut up and start dreaming
So you put your hands to work into the red,
You dug until your face became moss and stone
In a city built on the pond film of greed,
What an overwhelming need I feel to be clean
And I feel the cities energy working against me
And I don’t know how to get it to work for me
Just give me a shovel and a pick
And I’ll dig a tunnel outside of the cities zone
With a heart bleeding led,
And covered in ferment
You swear that you saw something grow
Well we’ve been told to shut up and stop dreaming
Well I say let’s shut up and start dreaming
|
||||
6. |
06.Form/Nothing
04:00
|
|
||
|
If form is nothing
If nothing is this form
I want to see nothing
If nothing is my form
Eyes deceive me,
Hands under shoulders
Fingertips and touch
Sounds of teeth telling stories
Attachments telling us what we are
But in this moment we are vulnerable to our hearts
But in this moment we are vulnerable to what were about to start
And this is the sound of mended broken hearts
And I want to bury myself deep
Deep inside your exquisite symmetry
And I want to clear the brush
That’s been covering up,
Your heart beat
The space between empty
The space between what we like and what we want to see
Has everything and nothing to do with me
Well do you sit with peace?
Or do you sit with harm?
Is this a birthmark or a scar lying on your arm?
A warning or a lucky charm?
Does it change under a different set of moons and stars?
And this is the sound of mended broken hearts
And I want to bury myself deep
Deep inside your exquisite symmetry
And I want to clear the brush
That’s been covering up,
Your heart beat
And I want to bury myself deep
Deep inside your exquisite symmetry
And I want to clear the brush
That’s been covering up,
Your heart beat
|
||||
7. |
||||
|
It’s a lot of thought
Of robbing banks or winning the lottery
But these types of dreams are an escape from reality
When the alarm goes off
Are you pulling yourself out of the softest grave that sheets could make?
Are you putting your hair in braids, while tying your hands in cuffs?
This is not what you dreamt of
The capitalists and emotional terrorists
And the big picture of it all
Could make you feel small
It doesn’t mean anything
Doesn’t mean anything
It doesn’t mean anything
When your world is this small
It doesn’t mean anything
Doesn’t mean anything
It doesn’t mean anything
When your nights are this long
It’s a lot of thought,
On the pain we caused
And how we can start again
Another night of throwing up,
The emotional baggage of a lifetime
And the fear of repeating the same patterns of life events
Well you know that I’m impressed,
The way you put that makeup on,
And over that bra,
You strap armor to your chest
The capitalists and emotional terrorists
And the big picture of it all
Could make you feel small
It doesn’t mean anything
Doesn’t mean anything
It doesn’t mean anything
When your world is this small
It doesn’t mean anything
Doesn’t mean anything
It doesn’t mean anything
When your nights are this long
|
||||
8. |
08.Color Wheel
03:52
|
|
||
9. |
09.Flower Beds
03:46
|
|
||
|
Under every flower bed there’s a coal that burns
With properly folded hands this is where we rest our heads,
While you’re lying here, I notice that the sky is bleeding
While you’re dreaming here, I wonder if you’ll find any meaning
And I know that it might not make any sense
That I spend all my time trying to make it back,
Make it back out west
Well you see that house,
We could plant some flowers down
We could stoke our own coals
Till we get old
If you want to escape this city
It’s going to take some time
And I have no idea what we’ll find
This type of life, well it chooses you
That’s what so unique about you,
Is that you can choose
Well here’s the good and bad news
Well I choose you
So what are you going to do?
Well you see that house,
We could plant some flowers down
We could stoke our own coals
Till we get old
|
||||
10. |
|
|||
Bashful Hips Chicago, Illinois
Bashful Hips is an Avant Garde project from the mind of Ian Fellerman. Bringing his sometimes searing, sometimes hilarious
but always poignant observations to bear over an entire stable of Noise Rock/Hip Hop informed Electronica, Ian's music is never stable, always changing and searching for the sound to express his feelings.
-
Strange Daze Radio
... more
If you like Bashful Hips, you may also like:
Utterly bewitching electropop with sublime vocal melodies recall the glorious theatricality of ’80s new wave.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 6, 2019
go to album
Letters from the Border
by Ben Osborn
A mystical and introspective debut from the British poet and multi-instrumentalist Ben Osborn.
go to album
Jeremy Mage and The Magi
by Jeremy Mage & The Magi
featured on Bandcamp Radio Mar 11, 2014
go to album
Circus Of Desire
by Olivia Chaney
Spectral indie folk from this York singer/songwriter delivers songs wreathed in mystic beauty.
go to album
The Compartmentalization of Decay
by Kira McSpice
Eerie, gothy, and ominous, the new LP from Kira McSpice is spookily engaging.
go to album
Four indie-pop reflections on growth and loss from the Australian singer-songwriter, sustained by robust pianos and fervent vocals.
go to album
