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We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

The Lakehouse Recordings

by Anchors

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1.
Phantoms 04:26
There's a chance we'll never know, how to fly or how to float, but I will cling to life until I wake from all my haunting burdens. So what's the line between a dream and a lie? In this body, I am useless. What's the line between a dream and a lie? Close your eyes my time has come. So exposed at the seams, in denial for what it means. My bones shake, my eyes just beg for sleep. There's a ghost sleeping in my bed, she begs for a place to rest her weary head. But it's too late to help her now, it's too late to save her. The days are bad, the nights are worse. The phantoms come with chilling thirst. There's a chance we'll never know, how to fly or how to float, but I will cling to life until I wake from all my haunting burdens. So what's the line between a dream and a lie? In this body, I am useless. What's the line between a dream and a lie? Close your eyes my time has come. When dreaming gets tragic, there's nothing to mask it. No refuge, no excuses. Repair, restart. You're in control, just take control.
2.
I'm chasing an imprint of something I can't touch. The fruit of my labor, is nothing without an apple for my eyes. With distance, I'll decide if I have the heart, if I have the heart to stay. It may get the best of me again, my tendency toward tautology. Tarmac abounds the distance between us, much like the distance from my head to the ground. I'm a fool, I'm a fool. I'm chasing an imprint of something I can't touch. The fruit of my labor, is nothing without an apple for my eyes. With distance, I'll decide if I have the heart, if I have the heart to stay. Oh, this mess that I've made. No, we can't turn the clocks back now. It's time for my actions to speak way louder than words, so loud I'll never speak again. I am what I am, flesh, blood, and bone. I am what I am, hopeful and alone.
3.
I'm a criminal. I'm a criminal. My blood runs cold. My blood runs cold. Icicles, I've got icicles replacing my bones, unfamiliar stone. Accusations lay to rest in my head. The ester breath of my death maker looms above my bed. Their grave, solace speech, it brings me to my knees. What is it, what is it that I'm fighting for? My body is a prison, forget the bars of steel. Truth be told, all flesh decays, just in time for my final meal. My body is a prison, some things time can't heal. Truth be told, I won't be saved before my blood congeals. Criminal, I'm a criminal. My blood runs cold, my blood runs cold. I am nothing more than a ghost without a soul, please save me. This chill inside my bones remains. You don't understand, no, not in the slightest. Escape is never permanent. They take away all of my dreams. They'll trace my veins, still my dreams remain. Trace my veins to find the dreams that still remain. What I know could bring your whole world crashing down. Find me here: face down, blood-soaked, with painted lungs. Find the gray in traces of past plans we laid. Before I go, I ask of you one thing. (Know that I hate to let you down.) Not everyone is like me. (Know that I hate to let you down.) But if it's me you can't believe in, (Know that I hate to let you down.) please find another faith. (Know that I hate to let you down.) I am nothing more than a ghost without a soul, please save me. This chill inside my bones remains. You don't understand, no, not in the slightest. Escape is never permanent. They take away all of my dreams. They'll trace my veins, still my dreams remain. Trace my veins to find the dreams that still remain. What I know could bring your whole world crashing down. Find me here: face down, blood-soaked, with painted lungs. Find the gray in traces of past plans we laid.

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Produced by Anchors and Jeff Weed
Recorded, Mixed, & Mastered at Sonic Environments

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released July 13, 2011

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Anchors Boston, Massachusetts

We are a rock band from Boston, MA.

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