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lyrics

Tarmac. The sound of thunder. Waiting, but nothing comes. The sky is getting darker. Facing the sound of drums. Beneath the wooden floorboards inside a vacant home. Don’t tell (what if they came?) me where you’re hiding so I (what if they came?) won’t have to know. The razor men, cutting as they come. The eraser men, rubbing out the files. The razor men, cutting as they come. The eraser men, rubbing out the files.

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from The Walking Hellos, released February 11, 2006

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The Walking Hellos Brooklyn, New York

The Walking Hellos are what you might get if you kidnapped The Raincoats, Pere Ubu, The Shaggs, Lydia Lunch, The Throwing Muses and held them captive in a Bed-Stuy basement for 10 years. And gave them a banjo, a double-necked guitar, some pedals, and an accordion to play with while they were in there. ... more

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