by Tuscany

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15 songs. Comes with an odd explanatory PDF file.


released October 14, 2015

All songs Tuscany.
Samples: Track 2 - if i am by My Bloody Valentine, Track 15 - Flower by Deerhoof.



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Tuscany Liverpool, UK

I am a young man from Liverpool who makes music. Weapons of choice are keyboard, guitar, vocals, programmed drums. Learnin'

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Track Name: Father Chaos
Salmonpink the skies
As I wake and hold my breath –
Lying next to you,
Your heaving sleepy chest.
I’ve sensed the drift of souls
Despite all that we made –
Zero into one –
Though two together fade.

We’ll give each other our hands.
On Dollymount we’ll find
Old forgotten feelings
And maybe mollify –
We turned our hearts to stone –
My flesh now feels like bark –
Moments from a dream
Of trains in the dark.

But what was once is now again
Here comes the sun here comes the yes
Off to the butcher’s feeling wee
Are nothing more than little guests...

I want but wouldn’t like
An order to this place.
I’ll work up from the roots
Up to your valleyed face,
I’ll sleep down by your feet,
I’ll cook your every meal,
I’ll lick your every wound,
Though this one might not heal.

Our sun is feeling sad –
His favourite songs are lies.
Something’s rotten here –
We’re losing paradise.
Oh how I will miss you
And sucking at your breast –
Sheets too neat and clean
But chaos in my head.

Oh sing to me of all the things
That change their form and shape to bless
Us with this life as it all swings
Inevitably to a YES
Track Name: By Jove
Taking a good thorough swig of his nutty ale, Nigel Farage looks out over the British Empire –
He’s just finished overseeing the committee room being decked out to look like a Greek temple –
As far as he can tell, life is pretty good; he has a view like no one else in the country.
He closes his eyes and sees himself as John Bull Jovey, raping a nymph; now she’s a cow: Europa.
He wants to see us all turn into braying animals before he fully gets down to fucking us.
By Jove we’re fucked it’s a movement alright
By Jove we’re fucked By Jove.

PCs going mad across the country stomping on filthy leftie scumbags and their fake issues,
Only people who are right on Question Time, a purple and yellow Union Flag for every family,
A free metamorphosis into a honking beast of burden as the very last thing the NHS ever does,
And an end to erectile dysfunction; all of these plus bigotry in our manifesto only £5.
We won’t disappoint unlike literally every other figurehead in history from Jupiter on down.
By Jove we’re fucked then we turn to dust
By Jove we’re fucked By Jove.
Track Name: Echo
The gods speak the language of flowers –
So no one can hear.
His starved body was never found,
Just a daffodil blooming all year.

He spoke the language of flowers –
So no one could hear
The petals flattened against the page,
The secrets silent but clear.
How strange what echoes.

Oh dream how sweet too sweet too bitter sweet
How sweet too sweet too bitter sweet
Come in the speaking silence of this dream
Come in the speaking silence oh this
Life in the flower the flower the power
Dream how sweet too sweet too bitter sweet
How sweet too sweet too bitter sweet
A flower underwater languid languid
Come in my dreams that I may live
My life again though cold in death

She drowned in a pool ringed with flowers –
And no one could hear –
Serene in such a gentle stream
Another beautiful death.
How strange what echoes.
Track Name: Supermantra
Who would be a hero?
Track Name: Disgraced
...conlecti flores tunicis cecidere remissis
tantaque simplicitas puerilibus adfuit annis
haec quoque virgineum movit iactura dolorem...
Track Name: Arachnid Politics
No flies in your ointment;
All stuck in your web.
Time to call those threads that you weave
Arachnid politics.

Let me give an example
That happened to me,
The sample supreme of

Eight eyes looking down while
Eight legs kick at me:
Four big party leaders ––
‘Arachnid politics’.

Spindly fingers
In all the pies
In all our ears
So we think your words are wise:

Life’s great
By your sophistry.

Who am I to speak up?
To offer my voice?
One poor little fly
Does not have a choice.

I know my place.
I’m just the prey –
I don’t need to do things,
I’ll be OK,

We can’t change the country,
Let’s change the subject:
No attempt must be made
To see the web connect.
Track Name: My Dear
Now the night draws in
I think of turning young:
Backwards flowing rivers
Uprooting ancient trees from the source.

This was an ordinary day:
Trying to summon the dead,
Incantations and potions,
Everything boiling over in my head.

You’ve done so much for me, my dear,
By just existing as you are,
But my heart’s ablaze with new ideas.
My dear, I’ve taken it too far.

I’d worked my magic on you
Back when we started fires,
Thought I’d nothing to lose
Trying to conjure up an eternal youth.

You’ve done so much for me, my dear,
By just existing as you are,
But my heart’s ablaze with new ideas.
My dear, I’ve taken it too far.
Track Name: Day of the Dedalus
A rude awakening –
I think he knows the rites.
A usurper to the throne.
He knows I’m not alright ––

And I thought that I was making a lot of sense
When I talked about just flying past all those nets
And I was just about to drop my ornate pretense
But I am trapped in my own maze, in my own deep regrets:

She wished that I would feel,
That I would feel before her death
(My inventions are my traps ––
I only worship what’s in my head,

And I built a golden idol to Art and Science
And my new philosophy could’ve started riots
And though my heart had disappeared I was sparking minds
Now I wish that in the end I had never even tried).
Track Name: Buy Bliss Now
Resin oozes from the bark;
So my pining tears break loose.
Lava bursts up through the cracks;
So my flaming heart's abused.

Run til I die,
Til I stop the pain,
The pain of being

Somebody else will have you now ––
Somebody else bought their bliss.
My impulse tells me just the truth:
There's no purer love than this.

Root to this spot,
Cry in my sleep,
And spring an eternal

It would feel so wrong to have you,
But thoughts connect when you're around
And you're always in my eyeline.
Makes me think the investment's sound.

I only have thoughts
Of you in my arms;
We know that lacks are no
Track Name: Orpheus
Co-ome, co-ome thou lost one come
And listen to my song
And flow your tears of molten bronze
To words of gold:

In lakes of fire I found my love
In blazing lava boiling up ––
Held out my hand to little use,
All heaeaeavy with jealous juice.

Song to the siren
Down to the wire and
Played her like a lyre,
O love's sweet song:

I went in the ground beneath my house
And found my mind in a cage down there;
I ran outside all sick with fear
And turned to stone as I hit the air.

Co-ome thou lost one
All fears go in the underworld
Track Name: Cupcake Fascists
Cupcake fascists on the run –
Better keep calm and carry on
Sculpting pink lambs from plasticine
Baking pies with a picture of the queen.
Oh England!
Mediocre and pristine,
Taking tiny dogs
For walks on her mountains green.

Now let’s all watch this reality show
Friday nights on Channel 4:
Fat immigrants on benefits
Sipping bin juice through silly straws.
We lead comfortable lives,
That’s easy enough to see,
But it all makes me sad.
Now what does that say about me?

Normality’s no formality –
We want quiet lives; no conflict –
But diagnosed with firstworld vanity
We cure it with a click.

Suffocation aesthetics,
The art of the terminally repressed,
CathKidstonstyle tumours
On Britannia’s beleaguered breast:
There’s no sincerity
In a cute meerkat’s whimpering face –
Yeah, we get it
You like pastel colours and things in their place.

I wish I could have that simple joy
From a picture of a yawning dog
That I’m not so easily annoyed
A grouchy slouching frog
Track Name: Centaur Peace
Track Name: The Odyssey
I could talk about myself again
But even I don't think I make sense.
Makes me think I should step outside,
If I really can.

My big mouth and my silly ideas,
A body of text soon to disappear ––
Makes you wonder if it's worth it at all
To even say a thing,

Makes you wonder how it feels to die well.
Can I get in to heaven after all?
Track Name: Patria Drone
At night the fires are burning in the eyes of the buildings
And the moths are out looking for a good time.
They said in a bygone age, "We'll build
A place of learning on the water there."
"And it will rejuvenate the city centre
Which is fat with American tourists," they said.
But the moths started eating at the fabric of polite society
Here and there, hither and thither,
Cheesy chips in a limegreen puddle
In front of the shops with all their angles
In a line with the clubs and their bubs at their back.
Now they're wobbling down Coney Street
With a bottle of vodka juggled between them in their brains.
The shadow man's at the bank. He's in the door.
And he saw the fall of Rome.

But who would have had the heart to tell the Trojan traveller
What his little baby would unravel?
What words should have built his city?
Track Name: Metempsychosis

1. Hoy son los manos la memoria.
El alma no se acuerda, está dolida
de tanto recordar. Pero en las manos
queda el recuerdo de lo que han tenido.

2. morte carent verbae; semperque, priore relicta
sede, novis domibus vivunt, habitamque receptae.

3. Every time I kiss thy hand to bid adieu, and every absence which follows it, are preludes to that eternal separation which we are shortly to make.