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album name

NW

band name

by Tereu Tereu

NW Cover Art
  00:00 / 00:00
1.
05:11
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2.
03:43
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3.
04:24
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credits
released 12 April 2011
Ryan Little - Guitar, Vocals
Thomas Orgren - Guitar, Bass
Brendan Polmer - Drums

**

Recorded by Thomas Orgren at The Bastille & Persona non Grata
Mastered by Devin Ocampo at The Treehouse
Art by Erin Hall Bray

Eamonn Aiken - Drone Commander

All songs written by Tereu Tereu.
tags
tags: indie pop post-punk rock Washington
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All rights reserved
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Noisy prog-pop by Ryan Little and Brendan Polmer.

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Track Name: Savage Love
Hey, boy,
why don't you act straight?
Words don't come out right,
figures don't make sense.

You've got
A thorn in your side.
Something don't look right,
there's bleach in the well.


I can help you
I can help you
I can help you out
(3x)


Let go
of the joy you find
in touches and glances
from boys in the yard.

Forget
someone to hold tight,
an engine that runs right,
a feeling of trust.


I can help you
I can help you
I can help you out
(3x)


The blood's on our hands,
Anoka-Hennepin.
The blood's on our hands,
in Bakersfield.


I can help you
I can help you
I can help you out
(3x)
Track Name: When The Darkness Comes
Down, down so hard.
Conversations stop,
As two feet stumble
Over a kitchen floor.

Simple mistake, not the first time.
Body seems to float away,
When the darkness comes.

Break, break the news.
Doctors say,
"Something is about to happen;
It's serious."

Shouldn't you be terrified,
Not so full of love,
When the darkness comes?

Shouldn't you be terrified,
Not so full of love?
Well, the body seems to float away,
When the darkness comes.
Track Name: The Body Unmade
O To Be In The Womb
O The Body Unmade
Tomorrow A Virgin
Tomorrow A Virgin

Why do brilliant minds and soft hearts become real estate agents?
Exquisite teeth lost in a bath of incandescent lighting
Why do lovers become liars and then disappear?
Oh, they're all blissed out on mercury and sea salt

O To Be In The Womb
O The Body Unmade
Tomorrow A Virgin
Tomorrow A Virgin

Ten thousand hours in the back of a radio station;
sprawled out, scrawling on the bathroom stall;
instructional graphics, statements on hydrodynamic thrust,
lemon-scented air fresheners shaped like yellow Christmas trees,
hanging so sad from a Chevy rear-view

I've got a question.

Can you hear it? Can you hear it?
It's calling out--
like a diver caught in the honeycomb,
waterlogged and choking, it's the fucking future, man.


O To Be In The Womb
O The Body Unmade
Tomorrow A Virgin
Tomorrow A Virgin