Vocals: | Winston McCall |
Guitars: | Jeff Ling |
Guitars: | Luke Kilpatrick |
Drums: | Ben Gordon |
Bass: | Jia O'Connor |
These are the sentiments of a cold-blooded cynic. Believe me when I say I would love nothing more than for everything to end unpleasantly. Concrete shoes. Rising tides. Grey skies. Let none survive. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I would rather see your face in hell than speak another word of this perfect world. Oh, to be buried beneath the waves. A sailor’s grave, it’s all I crave. Bury me five thousand fathoms deep, and leave my bones for the depths. The sharpest teeth await our skin. The sharpest teeth await.
Bloodlust swarms upon our worthless existence. The devils teeth. The devils teeth beneath our skin. Whispering of silent vengeance, blood debts remained unpaid. Now every breathe of life has been betrayed. Every ideal has rusted through. Nothing we hold brings solace. (Feed us to the sharks). So let nothing remain (Feed us to the sea). To be buried beneath the waves. A sailor’s grave, it’s all I crave. Bury me five thousand fathoms deep and leave my bones for the depths. There’s blood in the water. Sinking, always sinking. There’s blood in the water. I would rather see your face in hell than speak another word of this perfect fucking world.
In the kitchen of the Byron Bay home of Winston McCall stands a refrigerator, adorned on one side by a quote from Tom Waits: "I …