All the Pretty Little Horses (Demo EP)

by Buitre

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1.	Phoenix, 1872 03:36	lyrics	buy track
Phoenix, 1872 The year I left you, my love, I will send you the goodwill of a dove, And I will lay roses at your feet, As your heart falls through your stained teeth, Your head was beautiful as it filled with flame, And your eyes spoke sweet words as flowers circled your head, The coyote is never tamed, and love is best kept within your stomach, For the cacti walk the desert alone at night, As the Anasazi roam their haunts, I peer into the darkness of the Sonora, And my flickering eyes look back
2.	Roses for The Witch 05:39	lyrics	buy track
I woke up by her side today, Her cold eyes were such a beautiful gray, It's hard to love those who, suck away But under her spell, I, bled away Love is such a, beautiful lie, Pity those who cry and don't feel a thing, Cause that ain't a way to, be alive, Walkin' on them eyes of the sun, Blessed with the will to never run, I, I have fallen in love, With the, With the witch, And I, I have fallen in love, With the, With the witch, I woke up adrift in the stars today, I witnessed a man, waste himself away, Muttered to myself, as I walked away, Walked right past a, crumblin house, And as I, walked on that lonely sand ridge, up high Children waved me bye, and I just smiled and joined the world's masquerade, Cause after the rain stops, and they play their little games, They'll see a swarm of flies, writin' their names Cause I, I, have fallen in love, With the, With the witch, I, I have fallen, deep in love, With the witch, After the rain, I met with the priest, Knelt before the altar, Asked him if he, knew peace, He laughed and gazed at the sun, Like an insects laugh hums, And as I walked far from my home, I stopped by the graveyard, To lay flowers for my witch, Roses for the witch
3.	La Llorona 05:20	lyrics	buy track
I met her on a highway to, nowhere, My mouth was dry and my throat was numb, ain't need eyes to see, I was chasing butterflies and kissin' the floor, dreamin' of some cheap whores, And baby I tell you'll run forevermore, Dreamin' of crystal shores, In the sandlines of the Sonora, Oh La Llorona, And as my spirit floats away, floatin' towards that godless gray, I learned to curse the day I was born, Forlorn, above the empty sands, And I can't, feel my hands as I, drift away, From this, haunted land, As bonedust is lifted in the wind, In my, many, travels, I met a, cockaroach, He told me, to envy the dead, For the weeds grow long, and the sun burns on, Like an insects high wire hum, And baby I tell you'll run forevermore, Dreamin' of crystalline shores, In the sands of the Sonora, Oh, La Llorona

about

The songs that would later become the ill-fated ATPLH. Earliest music I recorded under Buitre.

Dark and brooding.

credits

released October 29, 2013

Christian Benson, everything

license

some rights reserved

about

Buitre Glendale, Arizona

Aggressive punky folk and strange experimental folk hailing from the the urban necropolis of Phoenix, Arizona and it's barren suburbs. Dry, dead, and blunt, just like the Sonora.