Get all 21 Luna Moth releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Wavelength / L.S.D. (The Pretty Things), Sirena, Who's Gonna Love You/When California Caught on Fire (Single), Bummer Love / Futures (Single), (Don't Stop) the Moonlight (Single), Trees Casting Shadows EP, El Sol, The Serpent Stone, and 13 more.
1. |
Birdsongs on the Radio
02:44
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Scrub my eyes with soap till I can't stand alone
Silence me with birdsongs from the radio
and keep me untied and send a satellite
to scramble my eyes with scattered butterflies
the frequency's fried, the freak is alive
so just leave me outside and let all the batteries die.
Sell me to that smile, it's on sale today
if I'm in the wrong aisle, there'll be hell to pay
and on the outside if feels like time to write
another kind like the kind we kinda like
and maybe we'll sing, and we could harmonize
a mariachi for Molly.
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2. |
Junebugs
03:21
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It's kinda like living by the words that people say when they don't know what to expect from life.
It's kinda like asking why everybody's speaking of the lines they're never going to try.
Sarah lit cigarettes and said, "we should be loving life instead of making everybody feel so sick always talking about religion and politics".
Under the dashboard lights, we'll be safe surrounded by the junebugs when they learn to fly.
And when the junebugs die, we'll be fiber-optically addicted to a dying streetlight.
Cause I was drunk enough to look you right in the eyes, and they were brighter, somewhat whiter, so much wider than mine, and every single star is just another excuse to stay up every night inside a bottle of...
And we're just wasting time, thinking that there's somebody out there better that we'll someday find,
because it's summertime, and you're the only one that I'll be thinking about until I die.
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3. |
Sahara, Sahara
03:00
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Sahara, Sahara, write me a letter of your life.
Sahara, your's ain't the kind of bizarre and brittle brain that keeps my mind from breeding flies.
Sahara, I was a planet and you were orbiting like my satellite.
You kissed me like a pitchfork. Sahara, you squeezed me like a snake. So take this music with you, let it haunt your heavy nights. And if you ever....
I'm still alive, and I'm alright.
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4. |
Oceanhead
03:56
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Oceanhead,
the stars (or so they said) will not forget impressions that are left on life- or better yet, to summarize: The summer soon will die. Let's hit the highway while we're still alive to the ends of continents.
The madness. The radio. The wind winding through our bones.
All we have is now. So let us get started. Hit me up somehow when your thoughts have all thawed out.
Oceanhead,
the music's spiralling and dancing through the sinews of our limbs. We're lying on the sidewalk and we were filled with wine. When cars drive by they shine headlights into your eyes (greenest in history).
Caught inside these hot evenings, and I'm safe to stop breathing.
Running my throat down the curve of your ribcage, my blood settles down and rushes to the sea somehow.
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5. |
Walking in Circles
05:08
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It's days such as these when I would skin both my knees outside when I was only a child.
The old plan to say goodbye with cold cans and fireflies will do really just fine...
Walking in circles- the straight line through time ain't so great. Stacking up nickels that pay for one more day.
Send me a souveneir when you get out of here. This town eats you alive.
Under the overpass, before the aftermath, I'm here blowing my mind.
Walking in circles. These photographs weren't cheap. Your life isn't over until you get your receipt.
(Sing me to sundown, cause the daylight's burning my eyes. Sing me your hometown, cause it sounds a lot like mine).
I take my cues from old July. I think my shoes are tied too tight. I save the news until the summer. Can't wait for June to save my life.
Can't wait for June to save my life. I think my shoes were tied too tight.
She'll be in town in time for summer. She hit the road for home tonight.
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6. |
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There's a siren named sincerity sideways on the sidewalk by the street lying next to me. We drift some feet, burning rings into the lawn with body heat.
Let these circles be perfect symbols of our childlike lack of such mistrust that drives a stake into the hearts of nights.
Au contraire- I'm there, where I've always been, waiting for her sad song to return.
So we drift some years, watching weeds grow tall around the scars we burned into the earth.
While the old neighborhood grew so green, we were growing yellow, gold, and gray.
"Soon," she said, "the cicadas will sing. They will fill the air with electricity".
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7. |
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My heart stopped beating in New Orleans. Nobody warned me about the spirits and shades. Drinking miles off the highway seems like the right thing when you don't have to drive away.
I still hear the Mississippi. She's singing softly about the men who died. Can't wait to hear voices rise, to wash this town away and lay me out to dry.
My eyes stopped seeing in New Orleans. But it's alright- I could hear everything-The music bleed into the street, and I could feel the ghosts dancing all around me.
So long. This city's going to take my heart away and put it in a jar of alcohol to save. My smoke disintegrates to tiny spirals of silver and sapphire and disappears in alleyways.
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8. |
Sidewinder
04:05
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"This mercurial fury is necessity," said the prophet to his underlings. "Anathematize the weak. There are certain anachronistic tendencies that would better serve as obsoletes: There's no future in turning the other cheek."
Up the coast the smoke surrounded us. I think we've been walking long enough. I think it's time we made ourselves to where we can't think hard enough.
"Such an ashen assumption! Such ingratitude! There's no surface for such scattered views!" -America, my love.
"Such a cowardly posture! Such ineptitude! Such a sniveling, small insect are you!" -America my love.
Do I abuse the muses to say, "Hey you, these are not the views that ought to unfold"? Maybe on another occasion-now I'm far to busy watching cities explode.
There's a chemical reaction burning bridges in my head. Such an obvious distraction from the craters in the sand.
What a lot of comment to comprehend...at least the connotation's cunningly done-My merciful creator's commanding me to put a knife into the heart of my only son.
There's a stolid saturation digging holes inside my head for to bury consolation and to cover it with sand.
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9. |
Under the Boddhi Tree
03:10
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Under the tree, we counted roly-polys.
Under the tree we wrote a sweet melody.
Under the tree we talked about Dostoevsky.
We can stitch the stars together under the tree.
Give me a 1960s Mississippi stompdown.
Give me some Manhattan circa mid 70s.
Honey, come over, we can dance to some Motown.
Under your spell, the stars, the sea, and the tree
(Boddhi).
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10. |
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Hello sunshine Saturday
Heavy things will float away
I'll drive until I find a place where I can stare into your face.
Radio won't play.
Luna said to leave your love undelivered for 7 years. And find out why you're afraid to add another column to your list of fears.
The only people I remember are the ones I can't forget.
And the light at the end of the tunnel falls off your cigarette.
There's a lover in a cemetary who gave away his life so every night you could create another chaos theory before you close your eyes.
Hearts and anchors in the bay-
Heavy things still float away.
I'm face to face with ocean spray and toe to toe with tidal waves.
Cardio floats away.
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