White Blind

by Fey Moth

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1.
03:33
2.
04:44
3.
04:26
4.
03:46
5.

credits

released December 1, 2012

Mixed by Gary Reynolds at Electrokitty
Mastered by Rick Fisher at RFI

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Fey Moth Seattle, Washington

Electronic Music from Seattle, Washington

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Track Name: Alexander
Got an army
Got a hammer
Got an anvil
Why you stopping now
You could take me down
What you waiting for
Wage your war
Bring it on boy

Conquer, conquer me
Make me your empire
I’m not one to surrender
Come and conquer, conquer me

Are you just a boy
Do you want to be a man
Do you want to be a god
Throw your name across my land
Carve your face into my stone
Pour your song into my blood
Maybe I could be enough

Conquer, conquer me
Make me your empire
I’m not one to surrender
Come and conquer, conquer me

Is this your strategy
To bring me to my knees
Then hand me back my army
Or are you scared
To come
To come
Conquer me
Alexander
Track Name: Blam
Overwhelmed
Overjoyed
Overdrive
And I am dancing, dancing
The sky is dancing me
The birds are flying my wings
And all the ugly things
Part of my symphony

We could be alone, you know
The traffic ocean rush below
I’d take off all my clothes
(I’d almost crush your bones)
You are a bird sometimes
Sometimes a horny toad
A weasel, wiry, sharp-toothed and mean
A muzzle full of foam

The glitz, the glamour
The blim, the blam
Not what I will be
But what I am

The fragile scares you
The strong, it really scares you
You don’t believe me
You like me less when I’m around
And so I’m coming
And yeah, you like me when I’m coming
And if you want the up
You got to take the down

The glitz, the glamour
The blim, the blam
Not what I will be
But what I am

My fingers sing
Birds into flying
Tender, roosting
Cooing, calling
I feel strong
Strong and glowing
Not understanding
Just in my bones

The wrist, the stomach
the skin, the gland
Not what I will be
But what I am

The twitch, the headache
The stitch, the hand
Not what I will be
But what I am

The glitz, the glamour
The blim, the blam
Not what I will be
But what I am
Track Name: Fox Gloves
Fox gloves on highway sides
I like to drive against the sun, white blind
Spring time between my thigh,
It’s been a while and all the miles
I’d have to fly to find
A fox-eyed-breath-tie

Painted rocks and hanging trees
But all I see’s bumper and sky
A clock ticks in another time
A boxer, heart pickled in brine
With broken fists in fox gloves
And fox eyes

Fox eyes, you are fox eyes
Breath tied, I am box tied
Fox gloves, box me
Box my mind
White blind

A boxer boxing time
A mind looped on you
A tune from once upon a time
A bumper meets the sky
Spring sprung between my thigh
And every breath tie
Got fox eyes

Fox eyes, you are fox eyes
Breath tied, I am box tied
Fox gloves, box me
Box my mind
White blind

Fox eyes, you are fox eyes
Breath tied, I am box tied
Fox gloves, box me
Box my mind
White blind
Track Name: Into Stars
You gonna see me standing
You wanna see me fall
You got your hammer cocked
Your lips poised to call
And I can feel it coming
Like a rush of wings
Cage open
Set free

Close my eyes
Turn you into stars

I got a real bad feeling
You gonna take me down
You’re like a hurricane coming
Like a marching band
And my heart is pounding
She gonna bolt, she gonna fly
Cage open
Shot fired

Close my eyes
Turn you into stars

She’s hiding
Heart pounding
She’s trying
Trying not fall
She’s hiding
Heart pounding
She’s gonna turn you into stars

You know it in your body
You feel it down below
Like a ‘drenaline cartwheel
Like the hush of snow
You see a feast laid out
With your heart upon a plate
You know the hunter has you
The only way to escape:

Close my eyes
Turn you into stars
Track Name: Peach (Turn On My Brain TV)
Hey peach, out of reach
The way you watch, the way you wink
You make me think
You thought before
‘Bout being inside of me
My fingers, they’re actors
Pretend to be
Just what I want to see
Your eyes all over me

Turn on my brain TV
Think of you thinking of me

Hey peach, out of reach
Want your knuckle ‘tween my teeth
To keep the shriek
Down inside my belly building
Do trees weep from wanting spring
To think of all the sweet fruit
Rotting in the field

What a shame
What a waste
Not to taste
What is ripe
And aching to be taken

Turn on my brain TV
Think of you thinking of me
Turn me on