Vigils

by Some Skeletons

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  • A resplendent digipak containing beautiful artwork, and a lovely new tshirt both designed by our own Simon J Curd. Men's t-shirts are Military Green, Ladies' t-shirts are Navy.

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about

Our debut album. Feast your ears upon it.

credits

released December 4, 2015

Written by Some Skeletons
Produced by Luke Pickering & Some Skeletons
Recorded late 2014 - early 2015 at The University of Lincoln
Mixed by Luke Pickering at his home
Mastered by Troy Glessner at Spectre Studio
Artwork & design by Simon J Curd
© & ℗ 2015 Mountains of Records

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Some Skeletons Nottingham, UK

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We are a rock band from Nottingham, England.

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Track Name: The Mouth
And we sweep in from the sea, so to set the boundaries. And sheltered by hillsides from high and low tides and with passive eyes we quietly creep into a scene of courteous frenzy, of mild aspiration, where agitation's pacing the pavements.
Track Name: To Exceed; To Achieve
Am I going to be another bitter old man who will grieve for all the fun he never had? And all just to heed a grand maternal scheme to exceed; to achieve the things she wants to be achieved.

When my form conspires against me I’ll hope it does it swift and gently. I doubt I’ll ever earn this mercy – I’ll yearn until I’m burnt and empty.

I never chose to have the skill I have, yet I have, to the detriment of making my own plans. And even once the decades have all passed she won’t relax – in my head I’ll hear her whisper to the last:

“It’s your friends in the way.”

When my form conspires against me I’ll hope it does it swift and gently. I doubt I’ll ever earn this mercy – I’ll yearn until I’m burnt and empty.

[She says] “It’s your friends
in the way. They’re your friends but you know that they won’t see life like you do.”
Track Name: Indoor Meteors
Looks like the floodlights changed their minds and now invite the forcing of doors before...

...The duct tape frays from shaking junctures of mismatched days. Then let’s scale stairways just so there’s no place our ghosts can’t go.

Let torchlight arc over fallen floor like indoor meteors that blaze through dust raised while making bones lay in strange formations.

[Forever left there, a messy desk bears a general interest piece on this specific species of prairie deer which keeps tearing, breakneck, away from paws that could not have clawed at its flanks for ten thousand years or more.]

They say they’ve checked and checked and all that’s left is clerical error and hysterical strength.

Then let’s scale stairways just so there’s no place our ghosts can’t go. No, there’s no place our ghosts can’t go.
Track Name: Up On The Rocks
In the cache up on the rocks were secrets just for us. We gave our word that we’d tell no one.

And you grinned along with me, but I’m a true naïf with a heart you spent for your fun.

Thought I would take you down and show you what I’d found and you would fall fast for me.

You found your friends in town and told them what I’d found and what a loser I’d been.

Rushed to your friends in town and told them what I’d found and what a loser I’d been.

You’ve so many men to choose from and all I really wanted was to be one. What should I have done?

Don’t you wish for something real? ‘Cause when your life
is dull and piecemeal I’ll long have left this town.

And the cache up on the rocks; I found it just for us and
you will keep complaining but you’ll just live here.
Track Name: Beach Party
We raid our homes to grab supplies, and with rucksacks packed we hit The Mouth to have the night of our young lives.

In the dim light, half cut and free from worry, our guards fall apart. And we at once knew what it feels like to care, to offer something.

All I care about’s tonight. I hope they say about me; “That boy kept it real and did shit right”.

In the dim light, I feel bad but find it funny you’re all stuck inside, while the fire grows wild and rising thirds are heard for miles.

And all my dinner will be left upon the plate until I’ve eaten it all.

And I sincerely regret how I’ve behaved; that wasn’t me at all.
Track Name: No Respite
I can’t plump your pillows till you cough up all your guts and I’ll do so with a smile through our joys and through our ruts. There's a denominator – is it love or was it lust that's patently fermented to a grim platonic trust?

It was all about the way that your eyes held mine so gently. There was no false part portrayed and no reproaches inferred. If we’d known how that would change, that there’d be no respite.

Dressed in your best gown, I’ll press your face down, take this weight off my hands.

When did our white walls take on this jaundiced pall? In my favourite daydreams I kid myself that every noise you make means...

“With your kindest frown, press my face down, take this weight of your hands. Know it won’t erase all our glory days as fate’s forced your plans. I know you’d never lie, you’d never fail me, please just hold me with your hands.”

Did I decide to sacrifice my youth to your needs or did I get myself cornered by vows I once did mean?

I’ve been friends with sacrifice – I’ve been its mulch and its feed – but it makes you feel wanted, it makes you feel needed.
Track Name: Hi, Give Me Disease
At dusk, well fed, the concerned assemble, parking cars on worn playground markings which are no use at keeping form. Stuffed in molded chairs made for tiny children, bemusement looks to ruin the forum until she stands and tuts and coughs.

Upon the floor descends a hush of weary anticipation and the self-appointed rants as they watch.

“Hi, give me disease, and cures, and more maladies. They’ll play us all, you’ll see I’m right. You can think what you like but no one else will give you any answers.”

A pregnant pause erupts and holds court as sceptical rebuttals are formed in mouths too shy to say much. And timidly someone states that “she’s always concentrating on ignoring the facts in front of us...

“Whatever they may be. I don’t doubt that she must be dead certain this is the end for which she’s yearned but never learns won’t come. And though it’s awful she might be right.”

“Hi, give me disease, and cures, and more maladies. They’ll play us all, you’ll see I’m right. You can think what you like but no one else will give you any answers.”
Track Name: Ex-Sceptics
Bright afternoon drizzle. High school darlings and grizzled survivalists alike can’t clutch their crutches tight enough...

...While hurling words into wires, that backtracking might find this whole thing fossilised in a positive light.

But wait, but wait, but wait...

It seems convenience store forecourts all get haunted, heavy-handed, by the last desperate confessions that were launched but never landed.

So, track the final acts of answering machines – receivers smashed against collapsed number keys. Map the veer of steering wheels obliviously trying to see how many cat’s eyes there’s still time to steer between.

They’ll swerve with curves in the surf, where tiny birds find perfect perches, while words are hurled through the wires, that backtracking might find this whole thing fossilised in a positive light.

Then someone else can make some sense of this mess. Then someone else can make some sense of what’s left.
Track Name: Rush For Mercy
Well you can keep all your pleas and stay your rush for mercy. Cling to your brief time because high and low tides don’t care where sand lies.

Well you can squander your options or quell vice with virtue, or trample your peers down like blades of grass. All revel and subside.

I’ll not be bidden nor swayed by diatribes nor by praise. You tried. Did I ever even move?

Look inside if you want to go farther.

[Beware The Mouth.]

Now you’re far in the deep end, look inside, go farther, still it deepens. Easy does it, son. Easy does it now.