Get all 4 maud the moth releases available on Bandcamp and save 15%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Brudenell Piano Sessions, Siphonophores, Orphnē, and The inner wastelands.
1. |
Ecdysis
08:34
|
|
||
Dig deeper into your bedroom burrows for the ingrowing splinter you blossom around.
She wakes you up from your bed to sleepwalk you, over the palm of her hand.
I’ll wear my shiniest smile to confront her, but she´s a black hole swallowing all light.
You said: “I am yours to save, from the scavenging birds that nest in my chest”.
You said: “All I have I’ll share; from my dinner to the last breath inside my grave”.
Sleep my dear.
Your need dug into me for a place to belong.
You picked all of my locks till I was empty,
till there was nothing left,
till I was broken,
despoilt.
As she quietly holds your remains close to her breast, you´d trade Ariadne into the maze, to see her smile again.
Island heart adrift, reclaim all my soil just for your seed, to feel it all again.
We promised we wouldn’t make the same mistakes.
Oh! Atlas shoulders, this dome is too bright for our spines.
Weaving and weaving and weaving and weaving and weaving and weaving
perfectly embroidered words
over my shoulders as a perfect cloak,
to disappear below.
Oh! Atlas shoulders.
As the sky cracks, you can finally see your creator crawling on her knees.
Oh! Atlas shoulders.
|
||||
2. |
The mirror door
05:27
|
|
||
Inside the mirror, there is a door.
It’s round and black, and it grows and grows.
Clawing at the frame, the ground feels soft.
Uninhabited bodies in the circular void.
Houses filled with holes to fall through.
Houses filled with homeless memories.
I undress my skin, from its shellac forceful kiss.
I can move amongst the crowds, like the wind between the forest canopy.
Say that I’m real.
I undress my skin.
Say that I’m real.
I undress my skin.
I’m just an echo rustling the foliage.
|
||||
3. |
The stairwell
01:34
|
|
||
Golden in-gravity.
Held by silken strings.
Ruptured cocoons.
Below the stairwell.
|
||||
4. |
The abattoir
06:17
|
|
||
Hold me tightly, curse my elusive grip.
Once I said yes lightly, now you clench my broken reins.
A car park ballroom.
A forested abattoir.
A snapped new shoe strap.
A silent wife.
“And how afraid we were, when we were small, of Mormo:
She had huge ears on her head,
Walked about on four feet,
And was always changing faces.
But when you mounted your husband’s bed. You forgot all about those things,
All you heard from your mother”
– Erinna, “The Distaff” ( IV B.C.) -
Like wet flour I will knead you.
And your bowl will brim with tears.
By my hand unholy vessel, what is broken never heals.
Before the dawn you’ll bear my name.
My fingerprints like strings of pearls.
Your nacre flows below my blade.
Sediments of pain.
Like wet flour I will knead you,
WOE.
Like wet flour I will knead you,
WOE.
Like wet flour I will knead you,
WOE.
|
||||
5. |
||||
At the crossroads we divide.
Past the doorway we leave behind, all but what we cannot hide, and we’re left barking in the dark.
Unmarried and barren.
Dug out your shell with brittle nails and you cracked; open, exposed and decayed.
But inside you flowers a garden.
And inside the font swims a water bird.
And inside it a thousand promises; oval unbroken worlds
Underwater,
golden threads weave your name on the waves as they crash on the crags.
|
||||
6. |
||||
Lyrics:
I put the scepter in your hand and picked one truth.
You wrap me round your finger like a price, you queen dethroned.
A sleight of hand, a second chance to grasp the dreams you were denied.
Flicker of hope, prosthetic self.
I put the scepter in your hand.
You carve me bone of your bones, ivory.
A mantle laid at your feet, ultramarine.
You weave me thread of your thread, Penelope.
Buried in gold leaf.
High on your crown
I put a scepter in your hand.
Hight on your crown.
I put a scepter in your hand.
|
||||
7. |
Mormo and the well
05:17
|
|
||
At the bottom of the well.
On the spider’s web.
Molten wax rolls down her cheeks while the pyre engulfed her old body.
And at the bottom of the well the mourners wave the last goodbye.
Behind their veils they grin, ratcheting teeth sing through the smoke:
“Take my body, bring me back my innocence, from the abyss of the underworld where the table’s laid”
And he will devour. It. All.
Soar away, over the guilt and pain.
You opened the door to his army, don’t you cry now, child, now soar. Away.
High over the city walls.
Soar away.
|
||||
8. |
Epoxy bonds
04:00
|
|
||
Turned sides until I lost my soul.
Washed my own contour into the perfect foreign glow.
Had my ends divided, all dirty and swollen up.
We became the beggars, of crowded thoughts and perfect speech.
Dragged my ink stained limbs across the white canvas of guilt.
Following lies I found I different truth.
Under the same sky. Over the ocean’s indigo slab.
And without words she whispered “I will hold your hand, as you held mine in the forest and the stone hall.
And your chest will glow.
And the entrails of the animals and the grass below your feet will curl around your naked toes.
And you will sing about it all when I am gone”.
Givers of grace
|
||||
9. |
Streaming and Download help
maud the moth recommends:
If you like maud the moth, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp