by Liam Kingsley

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download this album for free at Liam's bandcamp page!

I wrote, recorded, and mixed this album between October 2014 and May 2016. thank you for listening.

Dad Culture Records


released May 12, 2016

Written, performed, recorded, and mixed by Liam Kingsley
Mastered by Brian Schuh
Album Art by Crystal Zoodsma
Released by Dad Culture Records

Synthesizer on "Post-Baltimore" was written, performed, recorded, and mixed by Eddie Maurer
"II" was written and performed by Matt Mongon, recorded by Eddie Maurer and Liam Kingsley, and mixed by Liam Kingsley
Vocal Harmonies on "Losing My Virginity in a 2004 Honda Element" written, performed, recorded, and mixed by Eddie Maurer
Drum Kit on "Losing My Virginity in a 2004 Honda Element" was written and performed by Christopher Kingsley
Trumpet on "Arby, I Love You" was written and performed by Bobby Rosato



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Dad Culture Records Potsdam, New York

~ DIY record label out of Potsdam, NY~

(photo credit to Devyn Halter & Liam Kingsley)

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Track Name: Daedalus
Your postcard ghost
sleeps by my door most every night:
ragged, stampless, half-inscribed.
I close my eyes,
hear it fading by and by,
like your shape when we drank wine,
like we did a hundred times,
but I just can’t let you inside.

You are my life.
Remember how we’d watch them die,
all those poor boys trapped inside
the maze I’d hide
from your gleaming sacred eyes?
The myth I always knew you’d find,
the beast we tried to leave behind.
We leave together, no goodbyes.

I’ve never felt so full of sin.
The wax felt good upon my skin,
too hot to touch, it settled in,

but it’s this Daedalan mess:
how when you died I died within.
My son, don’t let new people in.
They want your wings.
They want your ghost.

But, oh, I let you fall.
Track Name: You
I sat inside.
I crawl.
You made it through
last fall.

Track Name: Axis
Should I lie
and tell you goodnight
is what I had in mind?
Cause that shape in the doorway's where you're meant to find.
You say you don't mind.

Well, here we lie
in the absence of people and time,
with nothing to hide from but our own eyes:
judgmental and blinded from all that thrown lye.
You kiss me goodnight.

Your phone rings nine.
We wake up the site of a crime,
a cold case of distance distributed evenly over a line,
but the warmth that we found here just clicks on the light:
unsteady and bright.

You and I can tell what's not right,
and you and I just ignored that tonight.
If you come to regret what transpired that's fine,
because half of it's yours and the other half's mine.
Track Name: Days
Came home late and I stared at the door.
Checked the fridge, dropped the milk on the floor.

How does the world view a man in a bed?
How does a man view the world in his head?
How does the world perceive me
perceiving it?

Forgot to the lock the doors but nobody broke in.
Guess we’ve got nothing that they’re interested in.
Track Name: Hold It Still
I miss my band and I miss my old friends,
and I’m worried the ones who remain just pretend,
and I’m scared that this moment of happiness might someday end.
Well, I know that it will
so I’ll hold it still in my head.
Track Name: Post-Baltimore
Well, this is the end
in your room, on your phone, on your phone,
on your couch, on the floor,
in the snow I found you below.

You tell me so.
How that time that you wished you could die I showered alone,
freaked out and at home.
Freaked out and at home,
I showered alone.

I can't prove you wrong,
but I'll try and I'll try and I'll try,
till you're angry and yelling and crying.
Now I'm crying and yelling and angry.

You tell me to go,
and the wind chill is 30 below,
and the hollow we chose to let go breathes in:
real deep and real slow.

I guess I should get home.
Track Name: Away Team
It ran late.
They disguised you in makeup and paste;
smoothed out the lines that had pockmarked your face.

It was great.
Loved the song that the radio played
as emergency lights filed on by one on the highway
to watch us put you away.

Then we ate
penne al vodka from catering trays
as various guests made attempts at remembering my name.

Stayed up late.
Had my mom define passing away,
as she held to my father who wiped his nose with his cuff
as he offered a meek, “I’m okay.”
I was eight.

And I don’t quite know why, when you passed,
the first thing I did when I heard was I laughed.
Track Name: Stilled
Bear me through.
My tongue turned blue.
It stuck right to
yours in the wintertime.

I’ll hold you till
my brain grows ill.
Then you’ll grow still,
and I’ll ask you if you feel alright.

Your silence sheets the bed with ice.

Track Name: Tough Beans
I get bummed out over menial stuff.
It’s that constant impression that I just fucked up:
how the Mennonites stare when I ride on the bus,
or the look in your eyes when I don’t want to fuck.
I just want to be more than enough,
but I guess that’s just tough beans.
Track Name: Palm Reading
I saw the veins connecting lines inside your hands and wondered if trees

wouldn’t just absorb you if you dared

to climb them.

I considered articulating this, but

jumped, grabbed a limb, and flung myself upwards

before I had the chance, rapidly

emerging victorious in a one

man race to the


Haphazardly hanging off the trunk, I glanced down through a serendipitous

parting of leaves framing your


staring up at me,

staring down at you,

smiling up at me.

I considered diving straight down, but

instead let go with one


daring the moment to hold me still as perfection,

asking myself what profound thing anyone

could possibly have to say about


before tearing down the branches with as

much recklessness, abandon, and care as anyone should

as they move towards their visible future

staring up at them,

staring down at it,

smiling up at them.
Track Name: II
We sleep in our parked cars.
We find our hearts in pieces.
When we leave them
We will learn that we cannot go far.
We can’t go far.
Track Name: Losing My Virginity in a 2004 Honda Element
You made eye contact all the time
as if to check if I had died.
Admittedly, it wasn’t wise
to do this in the car with all the windows
shut tight.

I hadn’t seen you in a while,
And yea, I guess I’m doing fine.
I suppose we’re living different lives,
but we can just pretend tonight
if you like.

Our bodies lit. You sat upright,
looked down at me with shuttered eyes,
and asked across the artificial light:
“Is this alright?”
Track Name: Arby, I Love You
I used to love like that postcard you sent:
worn out and ragged, romantic and bent,
desperate to reach you to let you know when
I’d return to pick up where I left.

I used to give away portions of me,
hand them to strangers I’d pass on the street,
and I still remember how broken I’d be
when they wouldn’t give themselves back to me.

I met a woman whose head was on fire.
I embraced her too tightly and quickly expired.
Well, you know that she warned me if you get too close you’ll get lit,
so I crossed my heart and jumped off the cliff.

I’m probably wrong, but I feel like I’ve changed.
The blood in my sink’s just an oral mistake.
When our skins sting with day-glo I won’t be afraid
to say, “You’re alright. I’m alright. We’re okay.”

Arby, I love you like Jesus loves wine.
I won’t die without you. I won’t be divine,
and your toes, yea, your fingers, the function just fine,
but they feel awfully holy in mine.