Is This The End For Zombie Shakespeare?

by T-Shirt Weather

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4 track EP available in a physical copy from us in person or from here discounthorserecords.bigcartel.com

The songs were recorded by Neil Combstock at Rocking Horse Recording Studio in February 2012.

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released March 16, 2012

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T-Shirt Weather Durham, UK

T-Shirt Weather are a pop/punk band from Durham.
tshirtweatherdurham@gmail.com

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Track Name: You Had Me At "...do you like metal?"
Lie beside me and tell me the things that you're scared to admit
I swear I don't care, I swear I don't care what you've done
Lie beside me and tell me what's wrong
And I swear I won't scare, I swear that I'm here for the night
And if you'll keep me I'm yours

Syncing our heartbeats, I'm tracing the shape of your jawline
I'll follow your heart-line, across your palm

For you are not a timeline, you are not a timeline
You are a passion of mine,
and it pains me think that you ever believed that you'd mean anything less to me
For you are what you are and you are what you were but what was is not how we will measure your worth
And sexual history, erroneous factor
Sum of your person, the strength of your character

The sliver of moonlight, it lights on the edge of your lip
And the ghost of a smile, as you dream of a scene I can't see
Well if you're dreaming of me, I hope you don't dream that I'm more than I ever could be
I don't care what you are but I'm frightened of what I might be
Track Name: 0100010 (B Is For Binary)
When the lights go out
and the television screens
turn to static,
we'll have to talk to each other again.

When the pylons are down,
begging for a power surge,
mobile phone glow
will illuminate the sky at night,

We're dehydrated in the darkness,
panting for another chance,
capillaries snaking
and stammering
in unison.

We lie deep in our catacombs,
our catacombs.

Pulling out the hangover,
with my yellow fingers.

The city is shutting it's eyes
while we decompose in the gutter.
This hypnotic attitude
is throwing up in the corner.
The colours have been seeping out of my bedroom door:
Let's just keep pirouetting,
two bodies moving together.

Our hearts are analogue
of various different frequencies.
No mould can be forced
to translate us,
into binary.