1. |
Why Do They Talk to Me?
04:03
|
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Inside you they whisper,
Entice you and blister,
My brain hurts all over,
Can't cope with the pressure.
Can nightmares spill over,
Indecent exposure,
Pregnant and ready to,
Burst open in-situ.
Why do they talk to me?
Loud voices they echo,
Don't listen, don't let go,
Eat this pill and retake,
It will stop your headache.
Deluded and confused,
The voices continue,
Please help me, please help me,
Please help me, yeah.
Why do they talk to me?
|
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2. |
Brain in a Jar
04:26
|
|||
Today was made for you,
You try to trick yourself in thinking.
Today is nothing new,
You're still dreaming your teeth keep falling out,
How obvious.
There's something seems askew,
You're looking round at vacant faces.
Your lips stick like glue,
You try to talk but only silence comes,
How predictable.
But I'll not be myself,
No,
I'll not be myself.
It couldn't end too soon,
You're on a loop and getting nowhere.
A never-ending wound,
That can't be cured with plasters or a kiss,
How convenient.
But I'll not be myself,
No,
I'll not be myself.
You got my brain in a jar,
Don't squeeze it,
I need it.
|
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3. |
Punge
05:02
|
|||
Open me up,
Nice and slow,
Read me like a book you know,
Lick my blurb,
Stroke my spine,
Rifle through what lies inside.
My contents sworn,
To secrecy,
Spread my limbs for you only.
Please extract,
My abstract,
Help you learn what I retract.
Peel back the skin that covers,
All the layers that stick beneath,
Don't you feel afraid that you'll get,
Fed something you can't digest?
You're gonna eat the worms.
|
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4. |
Not Here... Not There...
05:56
|
|||
I'm not here,
I'm not there.
Not here,
Not there,
I'm everywhere.
I'm not leaving alone unless you tell me to,
I'm not leaving alone unless you tell me to, no.
|
Manalishi Manchester, UK
Manalishi are a guttural plethora of raw energy, F*** you attitude, and spontaneity.
With a crunching
fusion of noisy, punk rock; and a disillusion for the conventional, they merge captivating melodies with a rib-punching wall of sound and melancholic chords, complete with unpolished, squealing guitars, and the disgusting scars to prove it.
Email: wearemanalishi@gmail.com
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