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Drought | Ghost in the Filament

by Always the Quiet Ones

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Alexander Lynham
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Alexander Lynham The opening riff from 'Drought' is almost too ridiculous to be believed. Fantastic band. Favorite track: Drought.
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04:29
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credits

released April 27, 2012

"Drought" written by Blas Barragan, Jr., Joe Danher
"Ghost in the Filament" written by Blas Barragan, Jr., Joe Danher, Adam Lucas
All songs arranged by Always the Quiet Ones
Produced by Tony Draper and Always the Quiet Ones
Engineered and Mixed by Tony Draper
Mastered by Robin Schmidt of 24-96 Mastering
Cover art by Dan Bentley

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Always the Quiet Ones Liverpool

"Effortlessly swinging between Oceansize- esque progressive rock, Butterfly Effect-like epic alt rock or simply fuzzy Smashing Pumpkins riffing the band are close to unstoppable. Live, they are a multi-headed monster of rock, drawing sizable crowds across the Northwest and, soon, the country. Check them out now while they are playing to a hundred people rather than a thousand." --HIGH VOLTAGE ... more

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Track Name: Drought
Somewhere there's a man with lesser gifts, but the greater will.
He spoils my every effort because my efforts are his fevered dreams.
Each new ray of sunlight burns a young, vivid hope away.
And when his eyes tear open so are my heartstrings also rent apart.

Your faith dries up like a river,
your eyes cloud over with dark,
your conscience is rattled by thunder:
show me your heart.

My soul is a martyr to this drought, my long-suffering thirst.
I am my own weakness and my weakness is an absent heart.
Get off of me. Get off of me.
Get your foot off of my throat, before I fight back.

Your faith dries up like a river,
your eyes cloud over with dark,
your conscience is rattled by thunder:
show me your heart.

War has made me a man.
Track Name: Ghost in the Filament
Frayed at the edges of the mind and the creases of thought,
echoed in the faces of the dead and the voice of nought,
caught between the ether and the fibers, like the ink on the page
resounding wildly in the chambers of a sinuous cage,
beckoned by the ghosts of our past.

They want you to know.

Hey little brother, don't you tell me that you're better informed.
It's cold and it's lonely in the ground, ain't you glad to be warm.
These are the ghosts of our past,
and they want you to know.

Faded in the flicker of the shutter and the whirr of the gears,
the crimson and the cream grow discolored with the burden of years,
the pulp and the pigment are corroded and the flesh is unsown,
the ghost is in the filament, the ink's been drained from the bone,
windless voices of nought are crying out.

They want you to know.

Hey little sister, don't you tell me that you're better informed.
It's cold and it's lonely in the ground, ain't you glad to be warm.
These are the ghosts of our past,
and they want you to know.