by CUR

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'Dea' by CUR 2016


To everyone I ever reached out to who pulled away, looked the other way instead, when I wanted just to be in your images, standing beside you.
There's nothing left but your silhouette. I guess I left my one best man behind. They say it runs thick. One more time you better tell the lens - tell them we're sorry. Forgot what we had done and we can't take it back.

It's later in the day. I hope the cold shows my breath still has heat. Hope the breeze brings our voices back. But we're fading away.
Now I don't think I could face just what you might look like to me. I could've helped you pick up the pieces, all I picked up was my pace. I don't think I could take the strained way your words might sound. Through the bush that grew on your chest, on the dirt on your dreams in the ground.

They say blood runs thick, I can say at the least that mine runs anyway. Runs away. One more time you better tell yourself that you're sorry. Forgot what we had done. Sold all your blood, now you just run.

Sold all your blood, running cold. Making silver from gold. Now we're fading from the throne. The stained glass you used to hate is in our blue eyes.


released December 22, 2016
Guitar, Bass Guitar, Voices - CUR
Drums - Bill Maries
Art by CUR

With thanks to Sam McLoughlin



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CUR Dublin, Ireland

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