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We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Secular Ghost

by Secular Ghost

/
1.
Fore 01:58
My conscience never rests It’s like an endless road I’ve gone from being possessed To living like a ghost
2.
Matryoshka 05:18
I choose my words, my battles carefully No God-shaped shadow's hanging over me I’m my own worst enemy I’ve got a matroshka memory I can’t see past the foreground of my dreams I’m my own worst enemy All these walls Will cave in Eventually They will win They’re trying to amputate All our limbs They’re trying to tell Us what to think I’m the king of amateur psychiatry My internal dialogue’s a symphony This will be the death of me (x2) But these walls Will cave in Eventually They will win And all of my broken bones Will pierce my skin It’s cutting off My oxygen It consumes everything Eventually, they will win All is lost To asymmetry I’ve tried to escape But it follows me All is lost To asymmetry I won’t let them take You away from me
3.
So I’m treading the slack-line Those catenary wires I’m in a gaze They duck, they dive Along the ebbing tides One of these days your corpse Will wash up on these shores The blood stains the floorboards The gun sits in my drawer One of these days all hell Will break loose once again They’ll dig up the shipwreck They'll chalk your silhouette I have often fantasised About the dark things I’d do To someone who took your life I’d have nothing to lose One of these days your corpse Will wash up on these shores The blood stains the floorboards The gun sits in my drawer One of these days all hell Will break loose once again They’ll dig up the shipwreck They'll chalk your silhouette
4.
1994 09:39
Driving (x6) Lift the curse Draw a line Fight the urge Driving (x2) I’m driving away I won't be a slave to the silence The devil takes care of his own But I’m not gonna' be his Joan of Arc My eyes are boarded up windows And my portrait’s printed on the ace of hearts A layer of dust coats all my furniture But I can’t tell the facts from the folklore My only witness is a perjurer And the daughter of the juror is a whore Driving (x2) I’m driving away I won't be a slave to the silence Driving (x8) I've faded away I'm stranded on a desert island
5.
Every man has it inside of them An emptiness This exposé has lived in my drafts folder For an eternity This is the antithesis of everything that I am Don’t look for the closest exit I wanna’ be a better man Every man has it inside of him An emptiness Alcohol, adrenaline Money kills everything This is the antithesis of everything that I am Don’t look for the closest exit I’m gonna’ be a better man I wanna’ be a better man This is the antithesis of everything that I am Don’t look for the closest exit I wanna’ be a better man
6.
The cut-out eye holes in your mask They're windows into your soul Painting pictures of your past I’m not a pessimist I’m just a realist I fell for my own honeytrap I swear I saw it coming I wish I could take it back There’s no prosperity I'll never belong here I've never belonged here I'll never belong I've never belonged here You play your cards close to your chest Cause’ this is the age of The 'bystander effect’ I’m not a realist I’m a surrealist
7.
I've underrated the irreversible I was prolonging the inevitable I wish I could Take comfort in The irony If only I Could defy the laws Of gravity Save me from the water in my lungs Save me from the fire in my gut I’m the sole-creator Of every path that I have ever taken I’m peering through the two-way mirror I’m switching off the lights I’ve opened the door of abomination There is no escape, just a simulation How could I refuse such a proposition? A vagabond Invites me To call a truce My attention drifts To CCTV In a cell-like room I’m the sole-creator Of every path that I have ever taken Pressed against the two-way mirror I’m switching off the lights I’ve opened the door of abomination Save me from the water in my lungs Save me from the fire in my gut
8.
Aft 05:34
Every fence post is a flick-book page Another missed opportunity Or a lucky escape The continental length in linear scale And the varying distances between The church and the state Venting frustration, endless road queues And not a moment’s consideration For someone’s misfortune Carrying the scent of drunk-girl’s perfume To our ultimate destination Bearing the bad news

credits

released July 4, 2016

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Man Without Country Wales, UK

Man Without Country is the creative moniker of Welsh-native musician and vocalist Ryan A. James.

Following a successful crow-funder in 2017, James' latest album Infinity Mirror is out now and includes the stunning singles Remember the Bad Things and Lafayette.

His collaborative and remix CV name-checks the likes of Röyksopp, ionnalee, Interpol, M83, Chad Valley, Empathy Test, White Sea and more.
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