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Secret Keeper

by Trust Fall

supported by
Michael David Knight
Michael David Knight thumbnail
Michael David Knight I got the bassist drunk at a pool bar in Austin, TX. He said to check out his band and here we are. I love it.
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1.
Mid-Atlantic 02:13
snake jazz
2.
something I never was is living in my bones and sometimes in the dark I can hear it shifting in shapes of gray beneath my eyes but others I find myself locked in a home where everything is labeled with masking tape and black magic marker I sit silent trapped by sinister specters mocking my body bound in the same shape as it always was I can’t see a room not covered in self-doubt bury me bury me a self imposed banishment of natural light and all I want is to gnaw at my ribs one at a time until I’m open enough exposed caustic air that demonstrates doubt and reserve over what I thought would aid me I sequester and keep my secrets to myself and quietly bide my time waiting so some ghost of myself can crawl in and find some warmth
3.
Mia Wartooth 03:56
a sharp wind the first break from a summer that lasted too long it puts a light behind my eyes that only shows that I’m still here red, red swollen ‘round my ribs too slow to move while I have the chance too slow to move while I still have the chance when all I want is something that just won’t make me sick pulling strips off of my fingers again and again again and again pulling strips off of my fingers that fall like platitudes watching the same scenes again with different faces but I still can’t move I still can’t think without inspecting it a hundred times around in circles I can’t fill with the space hanging in the air above my bed but I still can’t move I still can’t think without inspecting it a hundred-thousand times around in circles I can’t fill with the space hanging in the air I’m just listening for a time when things go completely quiet when I can think without worrying and I can breathe around my hands when I can see nothing and maybe know something about myself internalize or demystify shed the world or watch it wrap around your finger feel it grip tight tight tight right before your eyes right before your sullen eyes internalize or demystify let it pass but don’t you dare touch it don’t give it a name don’t give it a name don’t give it a name don’t let it leave your sight laying still when the trees go to sleep I can’t see you scurry among stray pieces of the sun you know where it’s settled I didn’t know it had fallen you know where it’s settled I didn’t fucking know it had fallen
4.
my eyes assembling daydreams of yours in the half-light before dawn I’m torn between this comfortable silence I’ve built and the night light in sharp focus behind my head I am cotton-packed and wrapped around your dust settling in my lungs I don’t want to forget well just take my memories and just form them into something fleeting I lay back my hands across my eyes I know I know well I guarantee this is how today will end I can see the sun rise I can hear you I will be still this will be written in the patches of sunlight that find their way in I will be numb
5.
snake jazz
6.
I’ve felt change I am floored I am the floor and I feel the door sliding to complete the wall and your dragging footsteps moving a body with poor posture across my spine but at least they’ve carried weight I just bear it these days I don’t think of much but I’ve realized that maybe I’ve been acting on the wrong kind of sentimentality but it’s hard to know for sure so I’ll just lay here and I ask myself the questions I did when I was four I let my silence speak for itself so I’ll just sit back and move across the floor am I convinced that everything I have will leave or be taken away? am I selfish enough to think that they were mine to begin with? I’ve felt change
7.
F.I.T.P. 01:27
stuck in between sleep and a dream I can’t escape where do I go from here?
8.
nothing’s changed except for the size of my clothes and a room facing the other side of my house I thought I was supposed to grow? whatever made my brain stretch is now more than dead a soft swallow on the hard pallet I can wait because there’s nothing else to do I will trace handprints on my flesh I can wait because I can’t trust myself not to I can wait because it’s a shame not to see the end and maybe when my teeth come loose in my fingers I can plant them evenly beneath my headboard where something beautiful might actually grow nothing’s changed
9.
diverging lines last long past where my sight dictates depth and direction if I could blindly reach as far as ambitions asked for but now they’re spent and they’re solemnly pleading in unison ‘there is no home. there are no hopeful eyes. this is not for you.’ and it’s never below me like everything I’ve spoken low ‘there is no home. there are no hopeful eyes. this is not for you.’ it grows and it’s never below me like everything I’ve spoken low my senses shift towards my pulse my awareness that I’m on solid ground my composition am I worth my salt? am I worth any of my elements? what holds these secrets? how long do I endure this dirge to find an answer left kept to the stars?

about

Released on Flannel Gurl Records

credits

released November 19, 2014

John Thomas Fatigate-Guitar/Vocals/Piano
Rusty Painter-Drums
Ryan Styer-Bass/Vocals
George Spellman-Vibes/Additional Piano on “Is it True…”

Recorded at Dead Air Studios by Will Killingsworth on May 8th and 9th, 2014
Mastered by Josh Bonati at Bonati Mastering
Front and Back Cover Photos by John Thomas Fatigate
Insert Photo by Rusty Painter
Layout/Typography by Shelby Cinca

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about

Trust Fall Virginia

go to heck

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