Second Cousin

by Buried Beds

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1.
04:09
2.

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released March 17, 2020

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Buried Beds Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Philadelphia-based chamber-poppers, Buried Beds, craft upbeat and off-kilter songs that are as heavily percussive as they are nimbly orchestrated; rife with strange and imagined histories.

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Track Name: Lie Baby Lie
Who said it first, it’s not what you know
So lie baby lie, just like tracks in the snow, you’ll get covered up
Covered up

Where to begin, to ensure the end
That cut your finger in spite of the skin that keeps coming up
Coming up

From your eyes to your lips to your teeth to your tongue
How long have you been growing up?
From the sea to the sand to the heart of the man
How long have been dying?

Inside each bird, now there is a song
So hide baby hide, let the green grass grow long, or start speaking up
Speaking up

From your eyes, to your lips to your teeth to your tongue
How long have you been growing up?
From the sea to the sand to the heart of the man
How long have been dying?

Who said it first, it’s not what you know
So lie baby lie, just like tracks in the snow, you’ll get covered up
Covered up
Covered up
Track Name: The Architect
Will I empty out this ocean one heart break at a time?
This machine is such a bitter green, a failure of design
Though I am not the architect, I know the blame is mine
Though I am not the architect, I know the blame is mine

Well I traced the shadow of Augustine
Wore it like a veil through Galilee
But hands can’t hold what eyes don’t see
So take this hope away from me

There was a fire in this heavy heart
There was a pattern in these scattered stars
But the flames snuffed out the stars design
Though I am not the architect, I know the blame is mine

I can bring to light a hollow dream
Bend the mind and the will to be
Oh but life aint got no room for me
So take this love away from me

When the grim light fades from the world on fire
What’s left of love, of you and I?
When I call your name, I get no reply, no reply

Will I empty out this ocean one heart break at a time?
This machine, it’s such a bitter green, a failure of design
Though i am not the architect, I know the blame is mine
Though i am not the architect, I know the blame is mine

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