Dig Me A Grave

by Dérive

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credits

released November 10, 2015

Paul DeGrandpre - Drums, Vocals
Noah Jacques - Bass
Greg Nahabedian - Acoustic Guitar, Keyboards, Accordion, Percussion, Vocals
Paul Schmelz - Guitar, Percussion, Alto Saxophone, Vocals

Engineered and mastered by Will Killingsworth at Dead Air Studios in Leverett, MA. May 2015.
Mixed and produced by Will Killingsworth and Dérive.

All music written by Dérive.
All lyrics written by Greg Nahabedian.
Artwork by Sam Hoffmann. www.goldenbirdillustration.com

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about

Dérive Amherst, Massachusetts

a technique of rapid passage through varied ambiences

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Track Name: Confessions of a Data Miner
I heard a scream in the middle of the night.
It stole the words straight from my soul and it split the sky.
I heard a scream and then the sound of walls collapse.
Not even the canaries could smell that cyber gas.

He said, “Don’t blame me!”

There were zeroes and ones spilling out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin while he said, “Can’t you see the waxy black scars scratched across my heart like a million jet streams painting the sky?” His skin was grafted with pornographic images of run away teenagers in compromising positions that you found in an incognito window,while blood oozed from his head like a cranial cumshot.

His eyes were alive with passwords to bank accounts, add a capital letter for social media access, a number for credit card payments, and a character for email, and watch his fingernails clatter to the ground like a blinking cursor.

“Don’t blame me.
I’m bleeding binary and you better watch out for this digital soul.
My eyes lost in the window and my body’s drifting through the screen of a specter’s dream.
Can someone pull the fucking plug on the streets of information scratching the land?
I need a sign from God.
I need a hand.”

Let’s sling our hearts from this modem’s corpse.
Let’s spill our stomachs into empty flash drives.
Let’s drape our skin over flashing screens.
Sing with the whirr of gutted disc drives.
Sing with the whack of clacking keys.
Get down with this bloodshot harmony.
Sing with the wail of a dying mouse.
Sing with the scream of encrypted keys.
Get down with this bloodshot harmony.

“Don’t blame me.
I’m bleeding binary and you better watch out for this digital soul.
My eyes lost in the window and my body’s drifting through the screen of a specter’s dream.
Can someone pull the fucking plug on the streets of information scratching the land?
I need a sign from God.
I need a hand.
I need accessories for myArmageddon.

Can someone shine a light on the dark I’m in?”
Track Name: Spots On The Analog Sunset
Let me tell you about this place that I used to own
We called it Last Gate of the Apocalypse
Now come on and watch it burn
If the sky’s a dumpster for flying guitars
Whose burning strings wraparound the stars
Then you can find us by looking in the phone book under ‘bad luck’
Call 411 and say “Bad luck!”
Say, “I Got a mansion made of bones and the pool out back is bad luck boiling in the heat of the analog sun.”

I heard it on the radio
Yeah tell me what you heard
I heard it on the radio
There’s a twisted feeling tearing through the lining of my stomach
I heard it on the radio
Tell me all about it
I heard it on the radio
I want to spill my guts on the ocean floor

I once had a sister and together we wandered empty halls
She held my hand as we etched our names into barren walls
I once had a sister but now she’s gone

I once had a sister – she wore floral dresses and sang like a Sunday morning mockingbird

We built a palace of pulpy flesh and I nap under the skin canopy
Now won’t you take this bony hand in holy bloodshot matrimony?
Or we could take an ax to the rafters and a crowbar to the window frames
Can’t you hear the ghosts in these walls they’re shouting our names?
Or all it would take is one little match and we can sit outside sipping drinks in the shade
Watching everything we built go up in flames
Well now the floorboards scream and we can watch it all coming down

There’s a phantom party raging inside of my skull
But it never makes a sound.
All I hear are freight trains rumbling
And airplanes buzzing
And smokestacks crumbling.
And smokestacks crumbling.

Why can’t I ever find you when I’m looking for you?
Why can’t the shine in your eyes be more than the glare of a screen?
All I want is for you to be someone more than a face gently smiling in the back of my mind
Just carve into my face with the putrid stench of time.
Track Name: Phantom Party
There’s a ghost:

“Take the weekend. Take the weekend. Take the weekend and its bitter light.
Take the mornings. Take the evenings. Take the daylight and make it say something.
Take the weekdays. Take the weekdays. Take the weekdays and their bitter light.
Take the world. Take the world. Take the world and make it say something.”

Could she see me standing there in the loving light of a fluorescent glare?
I said, “Take every night and take every day. Take every letter and throw them all away.
Every second is a minute is an hour is a day
Can she see me standing here? Can she see me now?

“Take the weekend. Take theweekend. Take the weekend. Take the weekend.
Take the weekend. Take theweekend. Take the weekend and make it say something.
Take the world. Take the world. Take the world. Take the world.
Take the world in the palm of your hand. Take the world and make it say something.”

I don’t know whom I fear more. Who I was or who I’m becoming?

The prettiest eyes mine have ever seen, stole my heart and lost it in a dream
Now all I feel is filthy fingers inching up my throat until it splits open like a tulip in springtime
Give me a boat and I’ll navigate myself through the ocean of sex slime
Let me fall apart in the dirty intimacy of your fingers

Can I find heaven if I really row?
I used to be a specter
Now I’m an objector

There’s a phantom party raging inside my skull
Track Name: Disconnected Catacombs
I had a hard time finding myself tonight
The sky is all bone chalky white

I had a hard time finding myself tonight
The sky is all bone chalky white
There’s a cable that we left writhing on the floor
And I lost all my words when she kissed me at the door:

All that you can find of me is my shoe’s tread dried up in the mud
From a bright white night that was just dripping in love
Afterwards I stood there on the shore just waiting to be saved
So you can dig me a grave

Tonight I had a hard time finding you
The sky is all heroin needle blue
And there’s an endless loop of a memory splitting my mind
I don’t know where my dreams ran off to
I won the auction at the debutante ball
She looks so fine in her spider-web shawl
And then she laid down on her back and we got ready to pray
So please just dig me a grave

Am I lost in a window?
Am I lost in a screen?

Dig me a grave:

Take all the things I can't handle about me
My gender and my skin and my sexuality
Cover it up with dirt until it’s out of sight
The sky is all bone chalky white.

Dig me a grave.
Track Name: This Cut Down Tree
In the morning I leave my curtains drawn
Because I don’t want to see their sidewalks or their twisted electric sun
It’s been too long since I felt the grass beneath my feet
Or felt the natural soil and not these crooked streets

Goodbye trash. Goodbye lust.I’m gonna dig myself out and then I’m gonna start again.

While we were staring at each other I said, “I feel so much smaller than before.”

On a wilted blade of grass I was a ladybug tired and sure
And while I was reaching for the clouds you were a falcon
Circling high above my tired head you held me, and you sang.
Your bloodshot lullabies all coming down like summer rain.

Angel hair draping her face:
Sing me out of the forest again.

Can I just back up my life?
Can I just back up my mind?

Things are not ever what they seem to be
Like grown men acting out childhood fantasies
Or the way children dress up in adult clothes and pretend
I never thought I’d see your face again

Can I just back up my life?

Can I just back up my mind?
Track Name: Fukushima Waves
Did you see the bodies washed up on the shore?
No my twisted neon eyes don’t recognize a thing anymore.
Did you smell the way the blood stained the beach?
No all my senses are under lock and key

Every song is a war declared
Every chord is a drone flying through the air
I gently remove my black shroud
And I meet my love on a mushroom cloud

Every song sings like soldiers brawling
Every chord is a bomb falling
Oh my Love please take me there
And we can suffocate in the bombed out air

Did you see that girl at the end? She walked out of reality and straight into my nightmare. Every last thought is of control. Every last thought is of power. Every last thought is of ownership. Every last thought is of subliminal messages to send. Did you see that girl at the end?

Every song is a war declared
Every chord is a drone flying through the air
I gently remove my black shroud
And I meet my love on a mushroom cloud

Every song sings like soldiers brawling
Every chord is a bomb falling
Oh my Love please take me there
And we can suffocate in the bombed out air

Dig me a grave and I’ll throw in all my hate
Let my life be the dirt and my heart be the spade
Let the stone be still born love notes I never should have saved
Dig me a grave. Dig me a grave.

I’m carried out to Eden on Fukushima waves
Let the water cleanse my cancerous brain
Am I deranged? Am I insane?
Oh Lord, please save this place

So dig me a grave for all my regrets
Let my sorrow be the coffin and let my future be the guests
Let the reception split the sky with resounding happiness
Dig me a grave and let my heart do the rest

At 6 PM we heard the news. They wouldn’t be able to stop the impending meltdown. First the fish will die and the water will turn a sickly green and slowly the radiation will creep up the land and into our homes and into our lives and into our bones.

I’m carried out to Eden on Fukushima waves
Let the water cleanse my cancerous brain
Am I deranged? Am I insane?
Oh Lord, please save this place

I heard it on the radio
It was the sound of airplanes crashing
It was the sound of machine guns blasting
It was the sound of smokestacks crumbling
It was the sound of tanks rumbling
It was the sound of glossed out pop rock magazines
It was the sound of teenage rockstar dreams
It was the sound of masculine sex fantasies
It was the sound of dying spiritual mysteries

When the trees started to die we knew that we were wrong
The heat boils the ocean as it creeps along
Reactors are melting with the whistle of a swan song

And the radio plays on