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Funeral Faces

from Journals EP by sword swallower

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lyrics

Just because my mother wants to call her sister's husband a brother does not mean that I have to say uncle - even if he just died. I won't lie. I've heard this all before. My perception of this room is the set of a play, center stage: a coffin, and surrounding this audience of one are the players with their funeral faces on. It's a congregation of well fed mummies and drugged bears. Apparently I have some loose wires because all I see are the eyes fixated on the electricity radiating from me, but the only thing shocking is the ignorance to conditioned tear ducts. So, how do you apologize for not crying? Well, I cried. While I was carrying his body I cried, but I was drunk. Just for the record, I no longer believe in right or wrong, big or small, heaven or hell. Just myself.

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from Journals EP, released April 17, 2012

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sword swallower Chicago, Illinois

Christopher Cendejas - Drums
Marno - Vocals
Vince Aguilar - Guitar
Dave Collis - Bass

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