Finer Points

by BOY FRIENDS

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1.
02:04
2.

about

music video for "finer points"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7F4WzOLmO0

available on cassette w/ bonus tracks on MOON BOY RECORDS
moonboyrecords.bandcamp.com/album/finer-points

recorded by marshall vaillancourt at the oven
bonus tracks recorded by boy friends in the Room
mixed and mastered by evan magoni and andrew miller
produced by boy friends

all songs by casimir frederic coquette kaplan/boy friends

credits

released June 7, 2015

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about

BOY FRIENDS Montreal, Québec

formerly THE THIS MANY BOYFRIENDS CLUB

you can find our old music at thismanyboyfriendsclub.bandcamp.com

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Track Name: Finer Points
nature's all around
the city dream
floods me like a shadow in a valley

cracklin underfoot
glass like snow
but the tomcat's still cry is always friendly

the sky is cloudless with breath
and crawls like a cricket
the song'll keep its own watch

some prefer the view
from way up high
like a balcony or a rooftop or a tree

we've run in circles all
day here but look!
no one leaves unless you meet them in the street

the fear of safety in groups
is what keeps us violent
the shops retreat from the street
with their floor-length glass skirts
the treasure glows from the ground
to pique my attention
but now who's been here before?

it may be i am surfing corners
turning to get in the way
to watch the shadows in the street move
back and forth in perfect time
but i'd rather walk beneath a brick
umbrella than a pane of glass
i'll amble down the underground and
watch the block fade as i pass
Track Name: The Parable of the Sexy Ghost
she's learned how to count the
seams in everything she sees
like a memory of a
dream looks at a clock
something and a half o'clock
feels like she's floating but it
might be the ecstasy

now is the night we
see the world for what it is
swirling batter made of
clearings of scattered deer
queer and sundry fears
don't lock your doors at night to

see what goes on up there
what pleasure from the stairs the
lights with their candle bearers
with their bowls of tin and
ice in their underwear
laced and debonair
blind as winter bears
straight into the mirror

she's come to believe the
breezy season is a sign
that the sun is losing
shine to the briny air
worse still it doesn't care
duct taped the lightswitch but she
still checks it every time

in seasons of trees she
sees the greed of greening
leaves grinning gracious as the
passage of butterflies
steals slowly into sky
jumped from the window ledge to

see what goes on up there
is it really what we
picture a father's lair
the dusty former cares the
lie of the unaware
heavy in the air
like blank paper stares
straight into the mirror