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Sculptures of water

by About leaving

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1.
Aren’t you tired of feigning colors onto a surface that’s so plain? of watching your hopes grow meager inside this cage of cement? Every day that passes by it’s just another day ill-spent at the birth of this routine that never seem to come to an end. So pack your things and we’ll just leave faraway from here. Faraway. And so I drew all this red marks on the maps we used to share, connecting cities we always said we would visit some day. And now I’m made of all those travels that we never got to take. I’m of road trips long forgotten, planes that never plowed the air. And I've kept all those old sketches so close to my chest that it feels as if some day we'll be actually there. As is somehow time stopped then, giving us one last chance to melt into each other in the saddest landscape.
2.
As light 03:43
There is a light. It shines unaware of the darkness inside. There is a light. It shines in spite of the darkness inside. There is a light so used to burn my eyes that I can’t picture a day when I was younger. And then there’s this light so intertwined with my mind that I can’t figure a day when I’ll be older. This light, grows and shines. And as light, we will grow and then shine.
3.
It’s taking us forever to pick words, when simply put: it’s gone too far. So far. This empty conversation will now have to find its space inside this car. This car that’s full of remorse, of unspoken demons weaving our paths. And although it seems over, it’s never over. And it tears me apart. Will we find a way to tame our hearts and break this everlasting tale of us? Does this cycle ever ends its circle around us? If it does, then I’m no longer afraid of what may come. It does. Not just another conversation in a car.
4.
Just when you thought it all was over you found a four-leaf clover that suggested you to stay. And I can’t get my head around how something from the ground could decide what’s the best for us. I was so prosaic in my thoughts, so close minded and dull. Now it’s time to let go. Black and white memories while your picture still hangs on my wall. But if ever it falls, I know I’ll add a few colors more. ’Cause the truth is a jail, from which keepsakes can scape towards new forms. When reality fades, we get freedom to reshape our thoughts. And it’ll maybe take its time, but at some point only what we remember we’ll mind.
5.
This story’s still missing an ending, that’s true. But it doesn’t seem far ahead. When I try to reach to you, coldness comes through. An icicle piercing my chest… I’m taking one step back, I’m letting you breath. I’m taking one step back and getting bleary... And I, I feel prone to take just one step more. I’ve become a tangent to your plot. A background character. And I don’t think there’s a way to untie this knot.
6.
I’m not much of a saviour. Even with all these scars, you’ve saved me. Take me away from this place I’m into, from myself. And take away the hours, with their weight. Take away the litany of this days. Staying up for hours, waking up beside you in our bed.
7.
These walls 03:49
You can’t see it, but I’m falling apart. I built these walls, but not a place to lean back. And I’ve climbed up when I’ve fell down. But never quite like this.
8.
Is it too late now to forget everything we knew and lose our present amongst the fog of something new? I’m always eager to shape the ice before it hardens… And that just leaves me with a pool of malformed chances instead of beautiful sculptures out of water. Is it too late now to take back everything we said and give new meanings to words we so often have heard? I’m always eager to build big fires from such small embers… And I just linger watching the flames dance and tremble while they consume everything truly trascendental. I won’t taint this with more lies. The rain will wash the pain althought it’ll take a while. A myriad of sleepless nights (The moonlight, your eyes…)
9.
There, at that place we’ve long forgotten, right where the river meets the sea. Just when the tide is overflowing it’ll bring your memory back to me. There, at that place we don’t remember, killed by a sudden loss of temper; there lie the efforts I surrendered to keep our frustrations from enter. Waking up before the sunlight hits my eyes. Waking up to find the same lies in disguise. Waking up before sunrise. Waking up to an old disguise.
10.
How could I ever resent you? Had I had the chance I’d’ve melt into her hands.

about

Claudi Dosta - Guitar and vocals
Jordi Erra - Drums
Martí Ferrer - Guitar and vocals
Joan Pérez - Bass guitar and vocals
Jaime Pizarro - Guitar and main vocals

credits

released April 16, 2021

Bass and drums recorded at Wave Factory by Víctor Teller
Guitars and vocals recorded at Estudi Núvol by Martí Ferrer
Mixed at L’Orella Escapçada by Joan Peiron
Master at Ultramarinos mastering by Víctor Garcia
Photos by Joan Garolera
Design by Joan Pérez

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About leaving Barcelona, Spain

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