All songs written by Nords
Lyrics/punctuation by Lukas Lyjak & Nords
"...Set Theory..." recorded and mixed by Greg Giesbrecht at Dream House Studios
"Break Thumb; Escape Cuff!" recorded and mixed at the Lyjak Manor
Mastered by Lukas Lyjak and Jacob Andrade
Produced by Nords
Endless thanks to all fans who have been to our shows, and sat through every pedal technicality and "accidental" patches of feedback. Thank you to Maddie, Celena, Stephen, Danielle, Mackenzie, Bojam, and families for supporting us from the start, Gianfranc for every amazing photo you've taken during our sets, Kevin for finally getting us to play shows, every band we've had the opportunity to play with, Tri Delta for the amazing support and for bringing us into the Toronto Greek scene, and finally endless thanks to Greg at Dream House, for making us sound way better than we actually are.
Like what you hear? Come to a show! Bring your friends!
to hope, to pray is to to hope?
to fuck, to sing! to pray is to fuck.
like wolves at night —to sing?
in packs to ask! like wolves at night in packs?
with these vulgar words, to ask with these vulgar words?
—"well why can’t we be well!?!” —"well why can’t we be well?”
I will draw my own sigil.
Let that sigil be a stone
And on it sits a grey winged gull
with its beak high overthrown...
That gull can be a vulgar king!!!
That rock could be its throne!
covered by the blood of a torn up fish;
with her minnows swimming below...
The surface where the gull seats itself
—just hoping for a storm;
hoping for the waves to come and wash away thats stone.
hoping for the days to change,
hoping for the sun again,
hoping for the plague to fade
hoping for lost cause again
hoping for a reason well behind this very song.
and hoping for the wolves to sing a hymn we once forgot
—that one that said we’d break that rock the kings neck and his arms
then we’ll hang him high and then rejoice of how he’s dead and gone!
we’ll staple his wings to the ground...the wings we’ll let them bleed
–we’ll place his feathers in our hair and cut the legs off all his steeds;
with his blood we’ll paint our faces red; craft earrings of his teeth
—to celebrate fertility i will seed you like you’re spring!!!
i will draw my own sigil
let that sigil be a stone
it will stand for each who’ve died alone
and those who forgot love
and i’m sorry i forgot of you
forgot of what once was
and forgot then sword sunk deep inside
your chest and both your arms
but i swear i’ll tear it out of you
i’ll try to close your wounds
i’ll go ahead and stab myself
we'll make it two for two
eye to eye to see again;
to be blind but still okay?
'cause voices are enough this time
to get us through each day!!!
and varily I’ll think of you
and I’ll think of your king
and I’ll think of how he fucks you right
but know that you’re happy
the seeds I wish they blossomed right
to pink and white peonies
Track Name: Break Thumb; Escape Cuff!
oh how she hid in the crevices of my skin!
each ! rebutted and blanketed by ...
how an —precedes a saccharine "No".
huddled in quotation cuts and liquids screaming,
"i know, i know, i know!!!"
to be blind and honest to clairvoyant but bluffed
well i've been thinking the latter's enough
to make a ; breath like a lifetime sentence
in which i just sit here...
oh how it hid in the crevices of my skin!
oh how they'll dig, oh how they'll dig...
and how her waist becomes my sepulchre
where our studies, our studies are wrapped in the dark.
—to be blind, to be honest, to be faithful
to trace the words, a semanteme in which to embark.