Dreamtigers February 26, 2012 [HELL Comp Release] The Democracy Center Cambridge, MA

Freemasonry in Boston, MA. ©Rich Goenne

Listen to: Jumps the Shark by Heavy Breath

This is us doing a Suicide File cover four years ago, before there were naked men on our album covers, before we used synths and crazy shit and before Corey. Back then we were just four really young-looking dudes playing punk songs with bands that were much better than us.

Setlist: The Taste of Punk to Cum/The Screw/Dave Franco/New Contagion/Hollow/Digital Arms/Firebrand Sex/Three Weeks

Jake Woodruff (feat. Aisha Burns) - Keep Time

The match was struck at dawn  and moved us towards all that was to follow, all we’d find:  the way you look today, the way you looked back then.  Makes me wonder, times that I knew you before.  We fled to the streets and absorbed  this dark ruse.

RFC alumni The Tower and the Fool are playing our office this weekend, along with our best buddy @ghostthrower, Jake from Defeater’s sideproject Dreamtigers and Saccharine.

Day 25/365, 2013  Keep Time by Dreamtigers

Jake Woodruff (feat. Aisha Burns) - Keep Time

White knuckle night in the old house. A lighter flame shines an amber glows then burns out. Whispers carry through the heat pipes. While the old hope darkens the new hope dies. The faucet screams. The ashtray smiles. And learns to laugh with familiar sighs, the ones that keep us up at night. And hell pushes on like a diesel-hearted freightline into the casket of my arms. Stave off sorrow with a steak knife. Ballerina with a bottle down the bannister. Carve your initials in my palm, over the lifeline. Taste the bitter blood a better burn to bury us. On the roof throwing bricks at the stars. Watching the night sky bleeding out. And I clean up with a gas pump for a shower head. While you drop matches on the ground. Time approaches with the daggers. Just another thorn of life. The dirty hardwood. The darkened ceilings. Can we blame it on the season?

Read our review of the new album here and then purchase it here.

I slept through a morning of headaches and bruises today and woke to a feeling that brought it all back quietly. The ghost of your love dragged me by the throat to the phone and I stopped by the store on my way back home around noon. Well now I’m wasted again and you’re fading to grey in my head. You can see it painted on my face. Just a portrait of a bitter old man. And I can see you walking away but I thought it was only a dream. I’m cold in a black oil canvas, watching you paint the lines in.

Baby Grand “Saint” from their full length “A Portrait of the Arrogant Alcoholic as a Young Man”

Bonus track off of “A Portrait of the Arrogant Alcoholic as a Young Man" by Baby Grand.

I sip my bottle of bad news I spent my lunch money on An assembly line of loose change Counts to seven in the morning, I scrape right by Holding a hangover hurt by cigarette smoke The sun pisses in my shower Begs to burn my bed-heavy eyes Like a tossed-on-stage performer I freeze in the light, try to pull the curtain Try to kill my troubles and all uncertain things Decide to break my bottle of bad news Scattered along my walking trail Drunk as a ferris wheel cart Lay soft on my coffin in the back of the room Figure what or who will betray me soon I still roll my cigarettes half As well as I can bitch and moan If redemption knew my old man She’d see the same runaway train ride a paper-thin highway And I got nervous in my moving feet Sick on a thin mattress, while the fever lifted off the street and said to me “Don’t look too safe outside of your home, Hell drips from a rain cloud When you’re out in town, clutch your ignorant fears Just hold your head down, it’s always murder to hear Each step ring with such soft dead string from the band” They play a soft dead string in the band

Listen to: Hollow by Heavy Breath