Havregryn
She listens to Pinback in the dark.
She drives a SAAB, with the back windows smashed out.
The machine doesn't mind when she clocks out.
She's got an hour before the next shift starts.
She calls it showtime, she's painting stars.
Her colleagues call her a witch, she says don't mind...
And the dogs seem to hate her guts,
they keep it upfront, as she drives around town.
And the lucky charms, hanging from the mirror up front,
shines so bright as she passes you by…
Syrup
Crows bark, last tender light, my mind setting it off...
Our industrial landmark, tender night sun, luke warm midsummer skies.
Crows bark, last summer light, my mind, pissing me off...
Our industrial landmark, tender night sun, lighting it up.
Greenhouse glass shards slash right through my bedroom walls.
Sacks of stardust rest beneath the concrete floors.
Starless sky soft floodlights shimmer yellow clouds.
Everything is like it was, everything is like it was.
Syrup I'd like to know.
Syrup I'd like to rest among the slivers.
Syrup I'd like to know.
Syrup I'd like to find myself among the ones...
While the sun still licks the sky, imagined your invisible crown,
yellowing slightly deep in the ground, take a bite.
Crow barks, last tender light, my mind setting it off...
Our industrial landmark, tender night sun, pissing me off...
New Mast Sings With The Wind
Squidheart
They've been blasting the same sounds for hours,
its not even past midnight, feels like a month has gone.
Didn't think I would mind too much...
Legs crackle loudly as you get up.
Hit me up, hit me up.
Please tell if you don't mind it.
Hit me up, hit me up.
Please tell me if you like it.
Feels like you're dreaming of something, I don't know what.
Feels like you might keep me around, just to know nothing is off.
Oh can't you just let me have this one?
Oh can't you just let me fall back this once?
Feels like something is brewing, I can't tell what.
Feels like you might kick me around, just to ask me what's up...
Quarryman
Oh girl, waste your time for me.
Oh my love, can you read something to me?
My eyes have grown weak, I can't see it clearly.
I can't feel the tips of my fingers,
as I flip through their stories…
Did you really think I saw it coming?
Did you really think I heard them out?
As the starlight fades the morning after.
Let your king of clutter rule the light.
When did their town fall asleep?
When did the fumes settle gently?
When did the people decide it was time,
that the houses looked better empty?
Oh the quarry man's dream,
calmly, slumbering lightly.
Embers resting under meters of water,
while the quarry runs empty…
Yagi Phasing
This Island Of Clay
Temperate times passing by.
November don't fight no more,
November light, feels warmer now.
Keep looking at the time, count an hour.
This island time feels odd,
The hours, somehow feels shorter now.
Lead Crest
Cistern
Let the birdsong pass you by, your headphones keep you safe this late at night.
That transistor screech will burn your eyes,
turn the brightness down and leave it for a while.
Oh I am weak, feel it stoke my delusions, as you're speaking to me.
Soft bickering dreams, calm wind of a night road, as you stumble to sleep.
The guy that wants your stuff is out of town this time.
The kid that rules the parking lot, has found someone to spend the night.
Cistern
Let the birdsong pass you by, your headphones keep you safe this late at night.
That transistor screech will burn your eyes,
turn the brightness down and leave it for a while.
Oh I am weak, feel it stoke my delusions, as you're speaking to me.
Soft bickering dreams, calm wind of a night road, as you stumble to sleep.
The guy that wants your stuff is out of town this time.
The kid that rules the parking lot, has found someone to spend the night.
Black Lake Radio Department
There's a shape drawn on your shoulder, it seems to know what's up.
There's a dragon on your shoulder, he seems to know an awful lot...
The books he got you, about your favourite sounds,
haven't been touched, since you moved on.
There's a shape drawn on your bedside drawer,
it seems to know what's wrong...
There's a dragon on your bedside drawer, he seems to know it all...
If you keep him up, he’ll convince you your obsessions lost.
There's a shape in the far corner, of your favourite spot...
There's a dragon in the corner, of the radio department...
If you let him out, he’ll convince you to consume it all.
True wood
That new face seems to feel it coming on, that's something…
True wood seems to smoke less than this plastic usually do,
would usually do...
Washed up time sink seems to let up.
Opalescent sorrows rub off.
True wood seems to shine much brighter than this plastic usually do,
would usually do...
Music and Art by Assar Wade, Mori Blanck.
Drums and Bass played by Axel Croné.
Mixed and Mastered by Wallentin Richardsson.
Written on Färingsö and at KZ.
Recorded at Tambourine Studios, KZ and in Halmstad.
No AI was involved in any part of this album.
© Assar Wade, Mori Blanck 2026