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Winter Of Our Discontent

by Headless Relatives

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1.
Exeunt All, Quacking 02:27
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I remember September In St. James Park The day they finally tracked you down You and I on a bench My coat as light as yours was dark Scattering bread along the ground Your hand brushed mine As we spoke the secret words You said the axe blade was coming down You told me they made you And you smiled sadly at the birds You touched my mouth and told me not to frown And when they burst from the bushes You followed them like a lamb to the slaughter And the ducks hurried off Returning to the safety Of the Water
2.
Pompeii 02:16
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On the day when the fire rained down We were feasting or starving According to our station When the ash buried our town We were swallowed whole By this violent transformation Become a freeze frame Of terror and isolation Each one of us the ruler of their own private kingdom of ash All identity cleansed by fire Rid of all impurities We stand a stark testament To the fire and the fury
3.
Blood on My Hands 04:11
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Hunched over the sink Trying to get the room not to sway The remnants of my drink Are being swept away Shards of sacred crystal catch the light And throw it back in my face This insight is a bit too erudite Cutting through my mind without a trace The image that I drew (There's so much blood on my hands) Shredded by abrasive truth (There's so much blood on my hands) My poles reversed in one violent move (There's so much blood on my hands) I've lost my bearings Phantoms float up from the drain And hover in formation before my eyes I try to hide the stain Scrub it off with steel wool and lye The burning of my skin A desperate bid to seek reprieve If I can discard the evidence Maybe these specters too will leave The accusation in their eyes (There's so much blood on my hands) Rejects my sacrifice (There's so much blood on my hands) No room for compromise (There's so much blood on my hands) No option to forego the blame
4.
Unwell 04:02
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This whole is settling Slowly sinking into its grave The motion doesn't bother us We have nothing to save Rachel sits on a folding chair Inches from the TV screen She doesn't seem to care what it shows Much less what it means In the corner of his bedroom Dylan's got a little shrine Icons of Jung and Campbell Arrayed in pristine lines As for me I'm spending most of my time Watching pigeons in the park Hoping desperately for insight As I stumble around in the dark Just one among the phantoms Confined to this plastered hell Are we really seeking answers Or just excuses For remaining unwell? The kitchen counters are covered With discarded take out detritus We all point the blame at one another Desperately hoping that someone will fight us Dylan's developed a limp John says its psychosomatic We all flaunt our brokenness Narcissistic and melodramatic Rachel yells at her mother On the telephone every night We all understand the impulse But I guess that doesn't make it right Just one more destructive behavior So common in this plastered hell Despite all our protestations We're all addicted To being unwell
5.
Nine of Swords 04:03
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The sun is due to rise any minute And I'm still lying here awake Like a vampire I'm compulsively counting Tallying up all my mistakes I've been staring at the ceiling For hours It's blankness belies my inner strife I'm powerless to stop the torrent The voice that tells me I'm abhorrent For every failure in my life Pierced by many blades But each one I have made My arsenal is endlessly renewed For attacking my own defenses The result of all this violence is That I isolate myself away from you I know that you need someone you can count on As life throws everything it has at you And I know that my own reactions often Exacerbate what you're going through And though I know that I am only human I can't shake the feeling that it's not enough Though I try to be understanding For myself my standards are demanding My rulings may not be fair but they're tough Pierced by many blades But each one I have made My arsenal is endlessly renewed For attacking my own defenses The result of all this violence is That I isolate myself away from you
6.
World Weary 03:15
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Stuck in a world for which I'm unfit If there's a plan I must have missed it Too tired to hold on too afraid to let go Adrift shifting listless is all that I know What I do I have to offer? What is offered to me? Trudging dead-eyes and tongue-tied Is my destiny I'm overwhelmed in a crowd Overcome on my own Too aware to be childish Too immature to be grown Existing's exhausting From the drought to the storm There's no rest for the weary There's no reprieve, no reprieve For the worn Fighting for breath and struggling for air Putting on weight and losing my hair Dreading the mornings afraid of the nights Drowning in darkness dissolving in light Too worn to move Too anxious to rest I spot all my failures And miss all the rest I'm overwhelmed in a crowd Overcome on my own Too aware to be childish Too immature to be grown Existing's exhausting From the drought to the storm There's no rest for the weary There's no reprieve, no reprieve For the worn I'm overwhelmed in a crowd Overcome on my own Too aware to be childish Too immature to be grown Existing's exhausting From the drought to the storm There's no rest for the weary There's no reprieve, no reprieve For the worn

about

This EP is the result of a single recording session brought about by some cabin fever during the current COVID crisis. All the tracks were recorded live with no overdubs. A simple, stripped-down take on some songs written over the past several years.

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released April 12, 2020

All songs written, performed, and recorded by Seth Biskind

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Headless Relatives Troy, New York

Headless Relatives play songs. These songs feature desperate individuals, bittersweet memories, and ancient Egyptian gods. Some of these songs can be found here.

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