1. |
Echo
04:18
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Cinnamon stained lips at the foot of the bed
calling me
Say you know, but try to quiet the cry in my head,
clawing free
And the child dies from the kind lies
you taught to me
Reddened dye stained bright on your words, and they bled
On me, in me, through me
No me lo hago
Set aside, I grew to size under your chin,
on my knees
The thousand times I tried to leave and show my skin
you followed me
You bled your red speak, reminding me
what to believe
A little boy can’t know what to give away
and what to keep
I cannot breathe until you let me go
My lungs are tied to yours and I can’t
sing or even speak, the words are caught in my throat.
They echo and echo,
and it grows,
and you can’t hear me over my echo
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2. |
Echoing (Rhythms)
03:12
|
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3. |
Echoing (Reflections)
03:04
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WET MATH New York, New York
Experimental electronic composition.
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