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Texturalinguistics

by Dylan Sonderman

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1.
11:37 02:31
2.
Texturalinguistics unravel this yarn under a blood meridian getting dark there’s the Judge he’s blotting out the sky he is dancing as the hideous fiddlers grin he says that he will never die on the road to perdition fire your guns don’t wait for permission to join in the fun hear this ode to perdition fathers and sons we lie by omission to hide what we’ve done done souls blacken mourning a burning orange sun mad laughing purgatory the day has just begun and the Judge still blotting out the sky hold your grudge oh Saturn let it die I’m the ghost of perdition foretold the one don’t wait for your vision to adjust to the reveries hear this ode to perdition a mother’s tears flood and drown out salvation daughters of dust die in the jaws of ambition coming undone the eyes of the hangman the cover of rust hear my ode to perdition oh everyone won a war of attrition what have we done? Done? it is done
3.
It's a cold, dark world I said that it's a cold, dark world it's much too cold can't you see? it's a dark, dark world
4.
Unresolved 03:30
Last night this faceless haunted chorus bid me talk my way right out of a bad dream piper pied carving runes in ancient stone polar opposite of pop goes the weasel ghost of dawn sing round the fire around the campfire close to each other for warmth and comfort we talk and listen infused with stormlight we glow to heaven without a guidebook we’re lost forever remember: Oh, Sebastian I love you You are my buddy, boy Oh yeah, I love you so bless, your mother has my back she’s fantastic in the sacramental daily rites of requited partnership sing round the fire around the bonfire close to each other in warmth and bonhomie we finally listen all of this tension is purely argumentative drawing focus forward better left pensive unresolved
5.
The Work 04:58
This song speaks intention and I’ll state it clear it’s a sword and a shield now defeat your fears namely self-doubt don’t let those flames sear your spirit to ash like I did for years Now I can conceive of authentic self-worth in this fleeting daydream on the garden of earth I’m nurturing seeds sown by sweat in the dirt and I don’t have to believe to keep putting in the work If the floor dropped away and I fell into hell where burning souls shriek and man’s vengeful gods dwell I’d try to ignore the sweet sickening smell and draw healing water from my inner well I invoke the sea to flood spiritual dearth to quench buried heat in the forest absurd I’m watering trees planted before my birth and I’m starting to see value in the work I don’t think I’m special I don’t think I’m wise I only know the truth as perceived by my eyes It’s been a hell of a trip and I’m still traumatized but the work is to persist on the path til we die

credits

released July 1, 2022

Dylan Sonderman: Guitars, vocals, lyrics, synths, percussion, production
Nicholas Baronzzi: Bass on "Arctic Desolation" and "The Work"
Aaron Bowles: Drums on "The Work
KDL: Vocals/lyrics on "Arctic Desolation"
Rebecca Pilar: Album artwork

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Dylan Sonderman Saginaw, Michigan

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