Kyanite

by Positive No

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1.
02:13
2.
3.
02:31
4.
03:23
5.
6.
7.
03:52
8.
9.

about

The End.

credits

released February 14, 2020

Positive No is Kenny Close, Coldon Martin, Keith Renna and Tracy Wilson.

Recorded & mixed at the Magpie Cage with J Robbins.
Mastered by Carl Saff.

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all rights reserved

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about

Positive No Richmond, Virginia

PLAY |> Technicolor Post - Punk Pop Homebase = Richmond,VA.

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Track Name: Escalator Up
Red light, left turn.
Placed just so, not thrown.

Midweek tribute.
Dead end solitude.

We couldn't miss it.
Track Name: Elevator Down
Weightless cloud
to your black mouth
a soft target
with pink moons and chronic joy.

False positive
that everything would
come so easy.

TOO SWEET
TOO PURE
The day I broke you
knew I was yours.

You asked how
I could belong
to you mother,
constant uncertainties.

Hating me as
you hate yourself
made us equal

TOO SWEET
TOO PURE
The day I broke you
knew I was yours.

You slipped out
without a word
but I am your voice
lost and found.
Track Name: Hot Air
This bar is an alter.
A sacrificial dandelion
blown compliments.

I know an act of mercy
killed with kindness.
HOT AIR HOT AIR HOT AIR HOT AIR
Breathing life where none needs to be.

My face is a mirror,
near me you fear this is what
your future looks like

I know an act of pity
delivered sweetly.
HOT AIR HOT AIR HOT AIR HOT AIR
Don’t project yourself onto me.

It’s been one drink
since your last confession
And my lungs are struggling

HOT AIR HOT AIR HOT AIR HOT AIR
HOT AIR HOT AIR HOT AIR HOT AIR
Track Name: Non
Qu’est ce que
Tu m’as dit
We don’t speak
The same language

Oh …
Nom de nom

There is spit in this kiss
It is softer than fists
Vos mains sont
un touriste

Oh …
Nom de nom!

When I count to ten,
under strain,under weight, I bend.
Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf dix

Ma peur, ma peur
est plus grande
que ta force
Je suis mort

Oh …
Nom de nom!

If I count to ten,
can I make this end?
Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf dix

There is spit in this kiss
It is softer than fists
Vos mains sont un touriste

non non non
Track Name: Why Do You Sing In The Middle Of The Night?
My grandfather asked
“Why do you sing in the middle of the night?”
but he refused to call what we did music.
We were falling
down
stairs
with pots and pans.
Definitely.
Not.
Music.

But I took the compliment
where I could.
He called what I did singing,
once.

Even if the hours I kept
kept him awake at night.

Why do you sing in the middle of the night?

Sleepless.
Not quite his age but on my way.
Old enough to think
about the birds just outside
my window at 3 AM
festively carrying on.

Why do you sing in the middle of the night?

It is neither barely morning
or freshly night and
I wouldn’t even call it singing.
It is a joyous racket;
notes floating
among
the
branches
of my family tree.

Why do you sing in the middle of the night?
Track Name: Get In, Get Out. Don't Linger. Go on.
The question became
how to make it new.
It isn’t the cannot,
it’s knowing when you should not.

Small talk / headlock

You should satisfy
your nameless storm.
Give news of your world
HONESTLY

Small talk / headlock

Get in, get out.
Don’t linger. (get out, get out)
Go on.
(Go on, go on)
We need more of less. (we need, we need, we need, we need)
of less.

A river is still
a river regardless
how crowded by trees.
A fire takes a spark.

Small talk head lock

A storyteller
requires a tale
to take you from nowhere to somewhere.

Small talk head lock

Get in, get out.
Don’t linger. (get out, get out)
Go on.
(Go on, go on)
We need more of less. (we need, we need, we need, we need)
of less.

This empty room
has so much promise.
Give meaning to the space you occupy and exit.
Track Name: Animalia
Warm weather guests
trespass to bathe in
radiating lakes.

Bare skin
imprinted as if
grass pushed back.

Sweet sweat, coconut
she bakes, she browns
vanilla mounds, he studies celestial bodies

but astronomy does not
please like this

It took millions of years to perfect these hills
and they'll outlive our ANIMALIA appreciation.

Dynamite clouds
crack Kyanite until
it leaks metallic streaks.

Forked tongues
heat ribbons quiver
strike and lick.

They slither out
of sight for cover.
Fluff hair in unplowed fields.

It took. It took. It took. It took.

It took millions of years to perfect these hills
and they'll outlive our ANIMALIA appreciation.

There are no snake charmers after dark.
Just a ridge, arching its back.
Fur, standing on end,
steaming.

A river of cane waiting to break
after a fire.
Track Name: Eleven First Magnitude Stars
Oh green hope.
Let us be new again.

I have waked beneath
a string of trees

miraculously blooming
against the black

of night and thought
not of blossoms

but rather
a descending constellation.

Oh green hope.
Let us be new again.

Our eyes were often
drawn to sky

following that terrible
harvest month of smoke and ash.

Spring exploded
into silent

night on Grace Street
Natchez marvel

Oh green hope.
Let us be new again.

Eleven first magnitude stars
uprooted dread

and I was free.