Put Flesh. Build Limbs.

by Lymphoma Twins

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credits

released April 5, 2014

Album recorded and mastered by Mike Moschetto at The Office Recording, North Andover, MA.
Album art by Zach Weeks.
Additional vocals on track three provided by Dave V (Deathdealer).
All music and lyrics written by Lymphoma Twins.

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about

Lymphoma Twins Boston, Massachusetts

Four people who play loud. Zach likes X-Files and magical girls, also is a magical girl. Pj likes wrestling. Javier likes the BasedGod. Ryan dreams bad. Life is pointless, God is dead, etc.

shows

  • Aug 26
    Providence, RI

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Track Name: Found God
My self portraits don't have eyes because I still haven't found beauty. It's like I cannot see myself the way I'd hoped you would see me. I told myself that I should live as if I will die tomorrow. The only thing it did for me was make me happy to fall asleep. There is a pressure building in my head. There is a pain gripping my chest. I'm sure I'll be just fine, but I secretly hope for the worst. I want tumors in my lungs. I want hemorrhaging in my brain. I hope there is some sort of afterlife just so I can see the look on your face. I made my bed and I wished for death. No preachers, no fathers, no prayers for my soul. No rest for the wicked, yet my eyes are closed.
Track Name: I Am Scum Queen
I chipped my teeth on the curb waiting for you to come around. You never showed. I eagerly await. On the day that I turn forty, if you're still not here, I'll take matters into my own hands. This is the letter I will write. This is the letter I will leave behind. This is the letter my family will find.
Track Name: falseidealsxvx.tumblr.com (ft. Davedealer)
I hand-poked a tracking number in the soft spot behind my ears. I took photos of a white washed lover and slid them under your door. You tacked them to your bedroom ceiling to keep tabs on me at night. The pink fist tattooed on your heart washes away when the feeling's right. I have never seen anything so pathetic as a man with his hands in the dirt thinking it would make him grow. It's too late for the snake to return to the garden and be seen as anything but a spineless thief. So take your silver tongue to your grave. You show your teeth for vanity. You're a fucking snake. You hold double standards high above your head while wearing feminism like a badge upon your chest. You're a fucking fake and you're a fucking crook and you are nothing but a scumfucking rat. So take a look at yourself in the shards of the mirror that your couldn't face and understand that in this hell, you only have yourself to blame.
Track Name: Rafter Ornament (Jazz Odyssey)
The comfort in these wounds has gone. We tear our flesh because it's all we know. Why bother burning bridges when you can just jump off? Filth spreads by the inch and I grew 77 inches tall. Light a cigarette before I sleep and hope it burns it all away. Bury yourself. No one loves you. Guestless funeral.