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High Spirits

from Weirdophrenia by TRAUMATISME

/

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Limited edition CD featuring a 12-page booklet with lyrics.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Weirdophrenia via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days

      €7 EUR

     

  • Buy the Full Digital Album

lyrics

It was a beautiful evening
Everyone was crying
The trumpets were playing with no other sound
When we nailed the coffin underneath the ground
This was rather unfortunate
But somewhat quite delicate
To say one last goodbye to our dear friend
When the cause is deliberate

Poor little diseased thing
High spirits took the core of his skin
We heard them serenade with other cancers within
Poor little deceased thing
What remains of him is gone for a spin
Far away in a land where all rotten lungs can win

As we laid him down to sleep
With empty faces allegedly brave
We all prayed the lord his soul to keep
Because there was not much else to save
We were all deluding ourselves
Well aware we were in denial
But some events should be left unspoken
Even if everyone knows what is to blame

A helpless need to take sustenance
For his ropey liver to dance
Such a guilty and sorry sight
To see him consume with delight

Poor little diseased thing
High spirits took the core of his skin
We heard them serenade with other cancers within
Poor little deceased thing
What remains of him is gone for a spin
Far away in a land where all rotten lungs can win

What a shame because we all knew
And we all saw the consequences
But we were all very careful
Not to put an end to this
It was none of our concern
There were many signs along the way
We assumed that they could wait
Just a thing he needed was someone
To hold out an hand to him
Before it is too late

But when he stroke just another match
Rumbles came out from his mouth
There was no time left for him to croak
As this stale air made him choke

Poor little diseased thing
High spirits took the core of his skin
We heard them serenade with other cancers within
Poor little deceased thing
What remains of him is gone for a spin
Far away in a land where all rotten lungs can win

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
His body has returned to earth
Now we mourn the loss of our beloved friend
From a lifelong battle he could never win
Nothing is all he ever earned
But the chance to sleep with worms
The moral of this story we all learned
That his journey to paradise
May never be authorized
Because drinking like a fish ain’t nice

credits

from Weirdophrenia, released November 27, 2014

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TRAUMATISME France

France's infamous D.I.Y. Rock Monster

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