What Frontier EP

by US English

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1.
2.
3.
04:10
4.
04:02

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released October 12, 2010

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US English St Louis, Missouri

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Track Name: What Frontier
Headlines like clouds.
Come quickly, help come now.
Dead souls with heavenly hopes,
depressed at work, headaches at home.
I, American, maker of my own gravestone.

In 2050, who will be
kings we kneel with,
gods we greet daily?
What frontier will our cities sing about now?

No news is good news.
The future is in whose head?

No news is good news.
The future is in whose head?

In whose hands?
We’re in love with our own myths,
Our own ends.

In 2050, who will be
kings we kneel with,
gods we greet daily?
What frontier will our children sing about now?

I had a dream,
It flew, discovered land.
It demanded time,
In time, it will move past.

I had a dream,
It flew, discovered land.
It demanded time,
In time, it will take my life.

Like an American manic revival, revolution.
A round world panicked that it has become flat.
Track Name: Times Like These
Future perfect
Past perfect
Picture perfect
Word perfect

Beware of phrases like these.
Beware of times like these.

Future perfect
Past perfect
Picture perfect
Word perfect

Finally, a funeral

Future perfect
Past perfect
Picture perfect
Word perfect

We're like stocks
falling in columns.
We're like lambs
let loose to wolves.
Track Name: Miser
We’re tied together
Like money in a miser’s coat.
It won’t wear well forever, but
It’s fine for now.

Bellwether quiet tonight,
a lamb alone along the cliffside.

We’re tied together
Like money in a miser’s coat.
It won’t wear well forever, but
It’s fine for now.

God's name, a boneless string of vowels.
Just a sound around your neck now.

You, you're like water,
you always want in.
You always want in.
Track Name: News!
Where is the news?
What is the count up to?
Down-doubled debt,
We learned to cheat at blackjack,
But lost the bet.

Who called us fools, fools, fools?
Why don’t our blues sound true?
Give up these ghosts,
We’re moving too fast now to believe the best.

There’ll come a day,
God knows,
Ashes in the air.
There is no post-apocalypse,
Still money is where my mouth is.

Where is the news?
What is the count up to?
Down-doubled debt,
We learned to cheat at blackjack,
But lost the bet.

Where is the next
New suburban myth to trust?
Dreams of apocalypse
Like guns turned on ourselves.

There’ll come a day,
God knows,
Ashes in the air.
There is no post-apocalypse,
Still money is where my mouth is.

When I wake up...
When I wake up...
When I wake up...
I’ll get a new life.
When I…
When I wake up,
I’ll get a new life.

There’ll come a day,
God knows,
Ashes in the air.
There is no post-apocalypse,
Still money is where my mouth is.