Barely a House, Barely Even a Structure

by Kites

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We wrote a demo, and this is that demo.


released September 26, 2012

Andrew Evans, Stephen McGrath and Michael Potter wrote this.
Joshua Amphlett (Pilgrim Records) hooked up mics and got scared.
Michael played the drums, Steve played sick bass and Andrew played the guitar and yelled at the microphone.



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Kites Perth, Australia

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Track Name: an Opening
I stumbled through the summer haze
and I came to a door haunted by a bittersweet smell.
I saw the old man weeping into the hands of the mirror
My organs hung like portraiture on the walls
made of my skin and my blood.
"What a dismal husk" cried the sky.
The ceiling collapsed and i felt
the gentle caress of pure destruction on my face.

Everything was happening so fast, that I was forced to ask
'Is any of this real or am I just living a series of eclectic dreams and nightmares?'
Somebody tell me that this is real.
Somebody tell me that I am.
Somebody tell me that I exist.
Tell me that I exist.
Track Name: Reflections
I look around this darklit room, there is a bit of a crowd.
The ghosts say all our paths are riddled with cracks, a bit broken, I should know, how else would I get here?
The dissonance, it sounds like our voices, feels like our hands. It aches and it pierces like none of the other noises
I anxiously line up behind the ghosts, to see my own stare in the mirror. And I look with a meticulous eye, trying to find something to define; Who we are or what I once was, but the fractured image was a blur. And in that moment the clock ceases to tick and I ceased to exist.
Shivers rake my spine and my skin tightens. Oh, these thoughts are too obscure. So I try to write them down, articulate them on paper. Seeking a shape or a pattern. Searching for an answer. Trying to make sense of this house. Trying to make sense of myself
But what I find is so terrifying to me.
It's a mess, It's nothing, I can't find a single thing.
So I write and I write and I write and I write, but I can't escape the lines, I can't escape myself
So I tore out the paper and I left the room.
Track Name: Empty Carcass
Floorboards creak as last weeks smoke releases my lungs from it's suffocating grip.
New smoke is inhaled. Blistered feet from the hot summer asphalt carry me through and empty carcass of walls and carpet. Of blood and skin.
I lose stance, staircase collapses. The timbers rotting it's being eaten. I am rotting, I am being eaten.
I have never felt so sick. One hundred thousand roaches are making love in my head
I have never felt so empty. The dust clouds are painfully familiar.
I have never felt so empty.
I have always felt this empty, I just never noticed it before.
Track Name: The Old Man in the Living Room Mirror
He appeared, writing on the paper I'd torn.
Coffee stained paper and pencil lead. The old man's eating stale bread. He is not alive nor is he dead. His palms reflect his distress.
He silently weeps into his hands, his wine has gone warm.I can see myself inside of his eyes, but his eyes are shut.
The walls of this husk mock him for he is trapped behind the glass
He clasps his hands and mutters a prayer. He returns my stare and the glass shatters.

And he said: 'I'm jaded by the shadows I let creep inside my head, they lay there so maliciously silent and grey. I always knew something was wrong but I continued on the path that I was on. Embrace the beauty of this world. Embrace the beauty of this place. And please don't follow what you've seen, please don't become like me'
Track Name: Blossoming
Branches, gnarled and scraping, latched onto my back bone. They ripped me through the window and dropped me in a garden of decay. I sat alone and I wondered and I thought.
I thought about what the old man had said and I thought about time well spent and I guess time well spent is time spent drawing circles in the sand and brushing them away with the palm of my hand
Beneath the dirt I found a honey-jade stone and I noticed that a rose had grown amongst the trees and their dying leaves.
I stumbled through the hazy grey and I wrapped my hands gently around it's stem and I whispered "You've made this a home, You've finally made this a place I wanna be."
I kissed her just below her neck and the rose and I laid, listening calmly, to the torrential force of the rain.