Instruments: 6-string acoustic, xaphoon, heavy chains, broom and sand paper, trash can
Key: G# Minor


Built like a prism
Manifest division
Peeling through the air like a hawk on a hunt

Prose like the knows
Never really shows
Beating to the rhythm of a medicine drum

In the old ways they say

Catapulted sages
Ripping through the pages
Folding up the secrets like a fawn on the run

Slung like the departed
Wishes never started
Divided by the earth and the sky in your eye

In the old ways they say
You’ve got no sense
No sense
No sense of escape


Man I’d like to show ya
Separate the old ya
Depart ya from the senses of what might have been

Shake you by the fault line
Send you to the surface
Disengage your doubts and all your might have beens

In the old ways they say
You change to live
And you live through change

Ra       Oh     Uuuu
No sense of escape

about the authors
One summer’s day, the ghost of an ancient samurai warrior crawled into Liam’s guitar. The other six showed up for an exorcism, but couldn’t get the darn thing out. We’ve been writing songs ever since.