Get all 10 Joe Bailey releases available on Bandcamp and save 40%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Splinters, Devil in the White City, Holmes Sweet Holmes, Ghosts, Waiting, Less Than Nothing, A Price To Pay, Nightingale, and 2 more.
1. |
Prodigal Son
09:12
|
|
||
|
Stretch the bones, take an upward direction.
Cross your eyes, see your finer reflection.
Bruise the skin to materialize your soul,
Tear the beast from the formula.
Drain the milk from the angel of daybreak,
A vital schism from the breast of a snowflake,
A genesis that is pure but dispensable,
Paint the night with your black colours.
You carry love like a cross on your shoulders,
The fire's lit but your heart's getting colder,
A fine idea but your mind will just blind your eyes,
And condemn your heart to the soil.
Your Father's hand was a weapon now broken,
Your Mother's arms, they will always be open,
It's not too late to eliminate this disguise,
And remember the thumbs in the oil.
Puncture the bed of the ocean,
And reveal your scales.
Paralyzed locomotion,
Consume your tail.
Tear the tape from the cracks in your visor,
Inject affection like a tranquilizer,
Repair the skin and materialize your soul,
Return the boy to the architect.
The vagabond needs a bond to recover,
Clip the black wool and make a coat for his Mother,
Feed the soul and build a bridge that can't be burned,
And let morality ressurect.
Puncture the bed of the ocean,
And reveal your scales.
Paralyzed locomotion,
Consume your tail.
|
||||
2. |
Salvation
06:20
|
|
||
|
Here we are in a dance for the rich and the famous,
No rhythm, no soul and two left feet.
And it seems that stupidity is contagious,
As we dance to the rumbling of defeat.
And our screams only seem to be heard as a whisper,
Veering side to side and left to right.
It's alright if you die all alone in the corner,
They can whistle and sleep throughout the night.
Can't we wish for a little bit of unity?
Can we ask for a little bit of dignity?
Could we wish for mercy and serenity?
How I long for salvation and its recipe.
How can we be seen and how can we heard?
When corruption is hanging from every word.
There's passion and hunger and an aching desire,
But a desperate flame and we burn in the fire.
And the choice is teasing us,
But my voice is meaningless?
|
||||
3. |
Sinners
07:30
|
|
||
|
Here we are, in the thick of it.
Intertwined, but separate.
Open to a new beginning,
Where we can't drown, unless we're swimming.
There they go, they sleep in cages.
Where life goes by, and nothing changes.
And they succeed, but they're not winning.
And they might shout, but we're not listening.
And without light, we are familiar.
And we can fight, but we're not killers.
Sky an oar through the blood and the tears in the wastelands, and in the bowels of the battlefield.
Swim ashore, earn your wings when you've sewn up the legwork, take your seats for the big reveal.
There'll be no matter of opinion, no hazy eyes.
There'll be no question of dominion, no minds to outsize.
Spread your toes on the stones in the pits of the ocean,
And clear your skin of the dirty deals.
No more scores, no more wars, just enjoy the emotion,
And feel the sin that we all conceal.
You are a victim and a villain, a sinning saint.
You are a man and you're a woman, with healthy complaints.
|
||||
4. |
Blackout
05:53
|
|
||
|
From a blind eye, I could see it all,
'Cross the skyline, all the colours lay in thrall.
I will comply, to your broken law,
When I'm sky high, I'll be ready to withdraw.
All in due time, or no time at all,
Hear the punchline, and then wait for me to fall.
When the sun shines, they can watch me crawl,
But my incline, is ascension through the core.
They write my whispers on the clouds.
I'll stitch and seal their golden mouths.
There's a fine line, between hate and war,
And your hate crime is not easy to ignore.
Maybe sometime, in your last encore,
In my lifetime, I won't see you anymore.
You'll see me in your nightmares,
you'll speak of me in your prayers,
You'll hear me when you're crying,
You'll feel me when you're dying.
You'll pierce me with your needles,
You'll break me in to pieces,
We'll crawl like puzzled beetles,
And bleed like we are surviving.
With lights out, we'll find out, that we can not survive now.
Don't know how, but watch out, you'll go out harder anyhow.
There's a fine line, between hate and war,
And your hate crime is not easy to ignore.
Maybe sometime, in your last encore,
In my lifetime, I won't see you anymore.
You'll see me in your nightmares,
you'll speak of me in your prayers,
You'll hear me when you're crying,
You'll feel me when you're dying.
You'll pierce me with your needles,
You'll break me in to pieces,
We'll crawl like puzzled beetles,
And bleed like we are surviving.
|
||||
5. |
Hieroglyph
06:11
|
|
||
|
All is right and all is just in the current hour,
Just let me sleep and let me keep my appropriation,
The stars come out and the earth can taste so sweetly sour,
Rest my legs on the park bench of anticipation.
There's a plaque with forgotten names.
I don't know what I'm missing but the bull does not possess a pair of horns.
I don't know what I'm feeling but my ribs are full of semi precious thorns.
The standards need to reduplicate so they don't make sense.
What's right for you will be wrong for me but it doesn't matter.
The letters need to be written in the future tense,
What's right by me will be wrong by you, that's the final answer.
Read me like I'm a hieroglyph.
I'm speaking in a foreign tongue, but my mind is verbalising loud and clear.
My brain waves need compressing and my pupils make a chilling souvenir.
I have heard a haul of useless words,
I see an ocean filled with malice and deceit.
The covered tracks, the value added tax,
The sheer contempt drafted on a formal receipt.
I boil and freeze, I drag my broken knees,
I shed my tears for you to filter down the drain.
You're sitting still, on your pedestal,
And crush our souls and file down our brains.
|
||||
6. |
New Moon
06:18
|
|
||
|
The night is drawing nearer,
The clouds are getting clearer.
I hear a humble whisper,
Crying like skin in winter.
The stars, they shine like silver,
Your eyes, my private mirror.
A life for you to consider,
I wish I could deliver.
When the daylight starts a war,
You will find me on the floor.
And I won't come out until the stars come out,
and the moon is hanging.
My invitation to the ball,
And I'll be coming back for more.
I will spend the night with the pale moonlight,
And the stars all dancing.
You could throw me to the wolves,
You could break me into pieces,
We could walk into the woods and neighbourhoods.
You could leave me in the dark,
Like it's some kind of weakness,
I'm a loyal stream of crooks and childhoods.
|
||||
7. |
Run Away
06:26
|
|
||
|
Break the walls, break the feeble little stumbling blocks.
Make it rain when your cohorts have ignored the crops.
No more snags, no white flags, no more giving in.
Clear the dirt from the pool that you are swimming in.
For the rewards that you reap will be forwarded in gold.
And the gold will be your shield.
But in your heart all you want to do is run away, run away.
But the grey fights the blood in your veins and it tells you to stay.
You see no holes in the barricade so just run away, run away.
But if you brawl with the disarray you can end this decay.
You've got to give to receive, there's no charity.
Keep tight hold of the unfamiliarity.
It's a shitstorm of corruption and depravity,
Wind it in and survive in this insanity.
For the rewards that you reap will be forwarded in gold.
And the gold will be your shield.
But in your heart all you want to do is run away, run away.
But the grey fights the blood in your veins and it tells you to stay.
You see no holes in the barricade so just run away, run away.
But if you brawl with the disarray you can end this decay.
And when your heart is pumping concrete,
and when your lungs are breathing dust.
When your skin is a crib for bruising,
And your bones are veiled with rust.
Your heart is still beating,
and your lungs still find the air.
Your skin is right for healing,
There's no need for this despair.
|
||||
8. |
Eleventh Hour
04:18
|
|
||
|
He gets no sleep, he cannot keep, his eyes open.
His cloudy heart bleeds out the door.
He joins the dots, he cannot stop, feeling broken.
What are these silent bruises for? 'Cause he can see no more.
Sugar coating turning sour.
Half life at the eleventh hour.
His pallid skin is giving in to the routine.
Each day, no different from the last.
A thousand words lined up in herds with no translation.
The years have scratched and torn his mask, and now it's tearing fast.
Sugar coating turning sour.
Half life at the eleventh hour.
Breathing, choking, losing power,
Triumph comes at the eleventh hour.
|
||||
9. |
Sugarcane
11:00
|
|
||
|
Come to me, I'll assist you,
When others have dismissed you.
Your love won't ever resist you,
I will see you through.
I am here to help you,
Make a pocket breakthrough.
They won't recognise you,
This will be your debut.
This sugarcane tastes so delectable,
Sweet on the tongue but inedible.
Up to your waist in regrettable lies.
My Father hijacked my sleep one night,
Seized my dreams with a tempting plight.
So eager and so erudite,
He beamed in silvery light.
"Digest my guidance and follow it,
Cup the lips and then swallow it.
Help them when they are desperate,
Cursed son, hold on tight."
I'll heal the land, but my poison is in the wind,
When I raise my hands, I don't want to cause suffering.
The many shall live, but the few have to die betimes,
And then I will give, remedial cover up.
This sugarcane tastes so delectable,
Sweet on the tongue but inedible.
Up to your waist in regrettable lies.
|
||||
10. |
Nocturne
02:44
|
|
||
Joe Bailey recommends:
An album of songs created with a late friend of mine, released in his memory. All proceeds with be donated to CRY (Cardiac Risk in the Young)
go to album
Debut album from atmospheric prog duo
go to album
In The Year 3073 - Book II
by Projekt Gemineye
A pleasure being a part of this, another excellent album from Mark Anthony K!
go to albumIf you like Joe Bailey, you may also like:
In The Year 3073 - Book I
by Projekt Gemineye
supported by 19 fans who also own “Nightingale”
Well played and produced prog rock, presented by a musician passionate about his craft. And who wouldn’t love those Rush influences. Just great music.
go to album
supported by 18 fans who also own “Nightingale”
When you like your prog to be more beautiful and/or accessible than prog-proggy, than this is for you! Melodic as hell and yes, Peter Falconer is quite a singer! That wouldn't go half the way without the solid songs of Pat Sanders. A great combination of skills ;-)
go to album
The Long Island metal band's third album etches arena-sized hooks into their jagged compositions, deftly balancing experimental and poppy inclinations.
go to album
