Find Yourself An Island, Baby Give Yourself A Chance, Find Yourself A Sunset, Maybe Leave It Up To Chance

Hell and High Water

Swords:

Conversation killed the moment

the kick snare combination bestills the omens

Caressing every fret, a world from the text

you once knew and loved, buzzing with the feedback

Keep it clean, Jack, jack me into the audio

it’s a grand theft, and papa know best

more or less, the rest thresholding the death threats

I’m stressed with less sex, the doc’s saying bed rest

But baby, I was born to run,

and we can talk remedies when the tour is done

Load up the drums and bass and I’m barrelling through

while these pretty indie rockers just stare at they shoes

I’m in the mix at full clip, Christmas carolling dues

with my grooves fluid same way a theremin do

Wearing a derelict mood, bumping inherited tunes

the remix, yeah, and what we taring it to

Back seat of the backbeat, the basics of the basement

tracing fame and fortune, distortion of the faceless

A brick in the wall, a face at the bar

playing guitar, making my mark while I’m waiting to start

In the flesh of ya twilight, pushing it deeper

than the depth of emotion you can fit in a speaker

Impressions and fevers dialed up at the tone

In a brooding message that I’ll check when I make it home

Megan Johns:

Find yourself an island, baby

give yourself a chance (a chance, a chance)

Find yourself a sunset, maybe

leave it up to chance (to chance, to chance)

Swords:

Let’s dance to the bitter, high plains a drifter

a prophecy fulfilling the glitz and the glitter and glam

sip the mixture next to the mic stand

fronting the hype man, exciting, a live band

And it’s live, man, LIFE, and the blanks can fill in

whatever gets blindsided by the lights on the ceiling

Feelings you can catch, I’m grasping a stress ball

but that’s between me, you and that store with the Les Paul

Yes, y’all, I guess y’all, we in it together

with the drums from the one who put the dirt in your feathers

Greasy, it keep me belief free, it’s easy

long as hell and high water stay out of the deep freeze

A midwest minute, my expected tone

and I ain’t in it for a visit, yo, express the poem

and I flex the bone, texting home, yes its on

headed west alone, bumping Methadrone

Megan Johns:

Find yourself an island, baby

give yourself a chance (a chance, a chance)

Find yourself a sunset, maybe

leave it up to chance (to chance, to chance)

from Depth, released 01 November 2013

Shannon Swords: vocals, guitar, production

Megan Johns: vocals

Sarah Cramer: bass