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Stanley

by Sylvia Haynes

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1.
My mantra is nails on skin Whats inside is thick, but The outside just gets thinner My mantra is bruise until unconvulse Whats inside is out, and The outside is happening somewhere else My mantra is snuff films in reverse I watch eyes fill back up with life, but Still feel cursed My mantra is do not repeat I was not meant for this; My attention span is weak but, I gotta lotta things to say, I know, I know, I should shut up, I should just go My feral is feminine I bruise blue from branches That end where I begin My feral is finding a pulse These test results are clearly For someone else But, I wrote a map of leaves hollow, Ink, it blows. I'll blow you a kiss Before I go If I knew the back of my hands as well as these roads I'd know where it goes when I become the scenery If the best thoughts didn't come at the worst hours I'd build you a tower out of what you mean to me But, i'm a crumbling artifact of False facts fled, but left intact, of Veins torn out to draw a map, that Only I can see Now my nose is loaded like a gun This hand is dripping crimson numb If I were you, I'd start to run To somewhere I can't see And how could you say it was just my body? And how you could you have known it was never my own?
2.
3.
I fall into the skyline, I hang on the horizon I choke upon my poison, I lay beside an omen I wash away my knowledge, and regurgitate my garbage My brain is bare and bottomless, my skin, it begs for tenderness I lead a nation of regrets to burn their love like cigarettes To crush their idle silhouettes, to table-dance with castanets And realize that they are blessed by the empty homes that they posses They carry consciousness like a crutch, and hide the evidence in a rush When not enough feels like too much, and the tangible is out of touch your broken mirror will bring you luck, and free the body in which you are stuck When this song is done i’ll write my own from remnants of the names i’ve known and syllables I spoke in sleep, so deep and clear, let lied Beneath this waking world of eyelid thieves, and games that only blinkers cheat We crash into the fear we drink and vengeance drives us to the brink Now,Infallible lips emit decrees to smoke the bluebirds from their trees The truth, it does not fly, it flees to solitude beneath the sea Now the illiterate write symphonies on dollar bills and TV screens And scream to halls of empty seats The echo from the theatre seems To drown out the final gasping pleas Of children hooked on symmetry But as I walk into the hall I see The person on the stage is me

credits

released February 2, 2023

Sylvia Haynes: Vox, Banjo, Electric & Classical Guitar, Organ, Electric & Upright Bass, Singing Saw, Glockenspiel, Toy Piano, Percussion, Theremin, Arranging

Stéfan Hoïmes: Clarinet

Primarily recorded at Horny Church in 2020 and completed at In The Dining Room Studios in 2023 by Sylvia Haynes

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all rights reserved

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about

Sylvia Haynes New Jersey

a musician trying to score a film larger than she can comprehend.

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primarily home recordings.

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Kentucky Wonder Records
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