some demo stuff

by Anderson Pose

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Demos we've recorded throughout the years.


released May 30, 2012

Everything by us. Yaaaay.




Anderson Pose Budapest, Hungary

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Track Name: I'm Not On Top Of The Pyramid, So I'm Against It
We're all scared to death
We lose something small
With every sigh
With every step

Everybody's searching their pockets
Everybody's searching for stability
Too bad our savior has been aborted

Wave goodbye to the pulse of life
Stare at the sun
As it burns the ground
Coal scars inside our lungs

Collect trash, hide treasure
Swim through the oil stains
Spilled out from the steady hands

Collect trash, eat garbage
Swim through the oil stains
You are what you build

Mithocondrial fundraiser
But it's still nothing compared to
The squint in the eye of the monster of the mouth of the shadow of the bottomless caldron
Twisting our shouts of explanation
Leaves us with one final endless sound, that is

Lo-fi, silent, spaced out, but now
She breathes at last, she is clean.
Track Name: Brownian Motion
Ostensible chaos of tissue-valves.
Fuzzy logic shell, living wall.

Stand aside, it's all the same without you.
There's no point in being a hammer, when there are no nails.

Decide me, fill me with the taste of myself
to erase the distance between.
Do I have the right to change?

Kill me fast, I'm running! These dirt tunnels can't hold no more.
My lipstick legs color the way behind.

Worker on acid bends his arms to...
Worker breaks his arms to fit through

Mismatched gears don’t turn.
Chitin bounded arms can't gather water
when you are the philosopher in meditation.

Can never step out, cause it's raining.

Can never step out, never want to.
Mixed in the mass
Functional past

Mixed in the mass
Functional past
Mixed in the mass
Brownian motion

Knowledge moves the weight
Clears your measure


Track Name: Standing Alone In The Middle Of A Football Field, Blinded By Spotlights
Dip both hands in the water
It's all way too dry here
Get the guns
Grab your bosoms
Breathe in, breathe out

I promised myself to make it trough in belief
What would Clint do?
Stare danger in the eye
Weep no more
Sweetheart, it's war

Warms up
The fear

Hold and release
Won't let go

I'm willing to drive,
but the car key won't turn in the lock
I won't struggle to pull it out
I borrow, I owe
It's all uneasy

Clint Eastwood, standing alone
in the middle of a football field
- that's what he does -
blinded by spotlights

Just stare and crave and fall
Where the stars make dreams and dreams make stars
living fine in Hollywood
with no pain and a cool phrase, like:
Do you feel "luck"?

Track Name: 49 Days
Voices on the other side,
sinking in the horizon,
muted by the constant swash.

My fruit trees won't do,
I don't want to spill their resin,
I could live on under their shade.

My washed out land holds the sea's salt,
it gives infertile ground.
Time's not moving, mind is
cutting, tearing, pulling down.

Step by step,
gather wood and pile up,
from the trees that give you life.
Step by step,
construct your way out,
no one knows if it will be enough.

Step by step,
gather wood and pile up,
from the trees that give you life.
Step by step,
construct your own bridge,
no one knows if it will be enough.

Step back.
Run out of wood, food, energy.

Illusive, my goal,
to reach the other shore.
Can't move, can't bear no more.
What if it's the end of all?

When sense surmounts the animal,
as human,
all my struggle was not in vain,
my decision to go on, to change.

Salt and time
Salt and time (can't hold me no more)
Salt and time
Salt and time