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Piedot II

by Sigra

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1.
Gyroscope 02:45
I’ve been told i have a gyroscope in my wrist Drawing best on rocky Wisco roads, Clawing through the mist Midwest persistence, the Factory’s foreman Is taking down orders that are somehow predetermined Pass all the gutted drug busts On the outskirts of town It’s funny how few eyes bat at the rusting Hinges anymore, torn down By the need for a little bit of linen Aren’t we all just junkies trying to fit in? Steady hand on the wheel Steady foot on the gas Steady fog at my heels Steady rain on the glass Like hey, I'm not proud that I still Think cigarettes look cool, Even growing up with all those specials after school Retraining the brain of a whole generation Takes more than a couple Charlie Brown animations I was always told I was old for my age As a kid, reading Dante under vanities backstage As a teenager, fighting against her own brain I lived two lives since age twelve, and thrived on the pain Not even old enough to drink and I run this damn show Just a formality really, but still, hurt’s a skill, man, you know I thrive under pressure, I keep the kiln hot Throw me in any way you please I don't break I don't rot Steady hand on the wheel Steady foot on the gas Steady fog at my heels Steady rain on the glass You toss and you turn Plan my ash for your urn But i burn and I learn How to earn, how to spurn Unwanted advances From checks I can't cash The ash rose from the phoenix this time, Coughed out from his hand rolled leaf of hash And the point still stands West, toward the Badlands, Got my foot on the pedal, And my head in my hands But only alone do I let the needle settle True north is subjective To the whim of God and Devil Steady hand on the wheel Steady foot on the gas Steady fog at my heels I’m not looking back It’s funny how often your first instincts are right; So I drive east, instead, Into the oncoming night
2.
Rorschach 02:47
how you’re perceived Informs who you are And the way that you are Informs the way you’re perceived And I learned alot about it hangin on to the eves of older artists’ conversations And acting on the offbeats And if I'm really honest Never thought I’d get this far Never thought I’d be breathing Even if its just between bars And sometimes to be real You gotta put on a face And sometime just to feel You gotta learn the razor blade I tried so hard to be a product; just the way i was taught But I'm not I'm what you make of me: A coffee stain, an ink blot. There’s blood on the wall I think it looks like yours You think it looks like mine Who’s to say who’s right It’s all just symbols and signs If you perceive you confine If you believe you consign don't say the first thing that comes to your mind So you lose another friend Just to gain another fiction People say its hard to get to know you Well how y’all think I feel? Careful kid, self deprecation turns to self medication Faster than you could say One nation under god- Damn the human infatuation With labels and breaking them As soon as you lay stake in one Its faded from the flaming sun Circles are my game I find comfort in confusion Everything is a smooth plane Unless it’s a protrusion I find clarity in illusions Eloquence in corruption I'm the adduction and abduction Always wrong about my own assumptions And as for a name? Well it’s never quite the same There’s blood on the wall I think it looks like yours You think it looks like mine Who’s to say who’s right It’s all just symbols and signs If you perceive you confine If you believe you consign There’s blood on the walls
3.
Ophelia 05:39
I think Ophelia was kissed nineteen times One for every year she was alive If I’ve counted right She might just could cope With the command to elope with the water dripping down her lungs I think Ophelia was loved by the best Clutched fingers of her lovers to her chest And lay to rest The whole breadth and scope Of her dreams and her hopes She’d been unsung And I swore i’d never write a song about Ophelia About Ophelia What a trite trope of a phrase A slight slope of the chaise Behind the settee It’s just her and him and me The tightrope of a misanthrope and her allotrope “Mo Chride” I think Ophelia is misunderstood A Watergirl in a world made for wood Did what she could Those magpies do squawk And they gossip and gawk And she loves them so I think Ophelia found peace in the moon The tides that turned over the waves of her tomb Some called it doom But she called it love Or some version thereof Like letting go Oh, Phee precedes proscenium And she exceeds milenia But all that youthful wisdom comes at a premium All you young unsung sharp tongued teens who Fling your flings like falling leaves Believe me when I see what she perceives So many drowned Ophelias Some in Gitchegumee, some in whiskey, some in tea The inevitability of a lover living still Is that the will becomes so strong it itself fulfills The summer I was Ophelia My hair was dark like molasses I watched the world on its axis tip and turn And she was wide-eyed and worry-prone And by August I was all alone I swore never again But every time I tried to run away The tide pulled me back to bend To their perception my reflection In the knife blade in her white knuckles I buckle And I swore I’d never write a song about Ophelia About Ophelia What a trite trope of a phrase The slight slope of the chaise Behind the settee It’s just her and him and me The lonesome child who wanders wild in her static so pristine Lean into the tide Lean into the tide Don't fight it’s gonna be alright In precis: I'm drowning in Ophelia And so Ophelia I’ll be.
4.
nye 04:49
New years eve I skinned my knee I bled all over the front seat Of your car You drove me home At four AM Empty cans Stashed in the trunk We threw them out in our highschool dump You drove me home At four AM Summertime Sometime in June We smoked inside of A pueblo shoe I skinned my knee But that was fine You gave me a golden ginkgo leaf Told me I was strong like the ginkgo tree Cause I, too, grew In the big mean city Where the only currency Is one’s resiliency Home from school Just one term in You picked me up And asked how i’d been Id been a wreck I said “I'm fine” Your girlfriend Drove up to stay Just for over the holiday Our friends approved And I did too You gave me a golden ginkgo leaf Told me I was strong like the ginkgo tree Cause I, too, grew In the big mean city Where the only currency Is one’s resiliency I thought back To how we were New years eve Steeped in peach liqueur You dropped me off Said “till next time” So we’ll part ways Until next time So we’ll part ways And that’s just fine.
5.
I need a little room to breathe I need a little room to breathe I need a little room to breathe Don't follow me These past few months Have been underwater Can't hear, can't see for the life of me My hands won’t write Or draw or play I just pass through Day after day Some listless garment in the rain A hollow heart A heavy brain I need a little room to breathe I need a little room to breathe I need a little room to breathe Don't follow me There’s this girl who Hits me up a couple times a week We get fucked up We swim, we sink But I'm not for her And she’s not for me We’ve both gotta breathe I need a little room to breathe Don't follow me I'm going crazy Crazy Crazy Not up not down not sideways either I gave away all my love letters Can't be fettered Can't be better I need a little room to breathe I need a little room to breathe I need a little room to breathe I need a little room to breathe Don't follow me

about

Piedot II sees a continuation of the themes explored in the first Piedot EP. Playing fast and loose with genre and language, Sigra continues to develop her style and voice, sometimes heady and serious, sometimes heady and erring on flippant.

credits

released January 4, 2019

Executive Producer: Sigra DeWeese
Recorded at: The Pink Room
Mixed by: Sigra DeWeese and Tubby McGoo
Photography by: Tubby McGoo
Design and layout by: Sigra DeWeese

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Sigra Madison, Wisconsin

music for the sliding scale of nihilism in your brain

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