Ceramics

by Ceramics

/
  • Streaming + Download



    Includes .pdf lyric booklet

     

1.
05:35
2.
04:40
3.
05:23
4.
04:51
5.
04:05

about

Recorded in Spring 2012, in York, UK

credits

released June 15, 2012

Written and recorded by Ceramics

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Ceramics Suffolk, UK

Ceramics are from around Beccles, Suffolk, UK

Indie/Acoustic/dub/emo/rock/alt/electro/pop/?
If you can work out what genre this is, we want to know.

Influences & Reccommendations:
Get Cape, Owen, Minus the bear, Netsky, Submotion Orchestra, Athlete, Andy Mckee, Newton Faulkner, Natty, Tangled Hair, Bad Touch, Jose Gonzales, City and Colour, American Football, Foals, Tubelord, Fionn Regan
... more

contact / help

Contact Ceramics

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: Cutlery
Speaking of blame, there's more to this story than old dogs with old tricks and cold log fires in her back garden. I beg your pardon if I look so tired of washing up dishes and waking up early just to go to work, but there was more to us than this cutlery and your smell of henna seed when you first saw me.

You still dye your hair until nobody knows the colour its meant to be.

Its meant to be me without any blame, I know its not how it looks.
Just go. I can explain.
Track Name: Timbuktu
I don’t know who else to blame for all of these mistakes as all of these double takes are starting to affect your health. But even the dog could do it, because whatever happened it would end up in Timbuktu. But who else( or what else)? You always know what to say: “Its too late”.

Its time to get away from the streets of east London, we will run until the sun brings in the new year. There’s too many words written here about running out of time, too many songs based on repetition and rhyme.

If these breaking bones could do it then I would have told you. Its all up to you now I’ve let go of all of the holds that have kept us from running to safety, or somewhere away from here - We could end up in Timbuktu.
Track Name: Stories
I was never much good at telling stories; they were always boring and fail to hold your attention. I shouldn’t mention, but I could explain all our secrets and all our bad habits. I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details.

So I will concentrate on made up names, and scenes of my invention: Sitting on the umpteenth story of this apartment block in old York, there is a notepad by LED lamplight, and your make up on my bed side and me on your bad side.

It was never my intention to explain all our secrets to this room of familiar people who I don’t know. It was never my intention to bore you with the details of this last note.
Track Name: Haphazard
It’s so inconsequential: why would they want to have the key to our old house? Maybe there's some potential to this place but all I see is the combination to our old selves: your things scattered around my room, your books still on those shelves, your hesitations in my diary, and your clothes upon my floor.

Maybe there's potential to this place, but all I see is the eventuality of haphazard placements of furniture, meaningless objects, and accidents of little consequence.

There’s little consequence of the time spent in this place:

All I see is the glow from these old bulbs, the artificial nature of these hardwood floors, the space for your body on these bed sheets, and a lack of evidence of the time spent in this place.
Track Name: Interview
So sure of my insecurities:
I'm not very neat and I'm not very funny and I can't help but sing to myself when I'm alone. I still don't know how to act in any situation, and I must be antisocial to want to stay at home

And she pretended that nothing had changed, that we're still the same immature characters In that coming-of-age film that she hadn't seen.

So when I put on a suit and a tie because I need the money,
don't ask me to talk a bit about myself.