Dracula​(​s)

by Madmartigan

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about

DIY Recorded in various locations throughout Austin, Tx. Mostly Space rehearsal studios room 2 and Jon's garage though.

credits

released May 20, 2014

Music: Madmartigan
Lyrics: Eric J. Foshee
*Except "Riding Dragons..." Lyrics: Jon F. Kovar
Produced/Recorded/Mixed: Eric J. Foshee
Co-Engineer: Joey Lopez-Lopez
Mastered: Adam Gibbs
Artwork: Jon C. Deichmann

Madmartigan is:
Eric Foshee - Vocals/Guitar
Joey Lopez-Lopez - Guitar
Jon Kovar - Bass/Vocals
Jon Deichmann - Drums

Copyright 2014, Madmartigan. All Rights Reserved.

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about

Madmartigan Austin, Texas

Formed in 2011 in the crowded Austin, Tx scene, Madmartigan set themselves apart from the crowd with a sound as uniquely alluring as the city they call home. Interesting song structure, sweeping transitions, & poetic lyrics define one of the more fascinating under the radar Emo groups.
Eric Foshee- Vocal/Guitar
Joey Lopez-Lopez - Guitar
Jon Kovar - Bass/Vocals
Jon Deichmann - Drums/Keys
... more

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Track Name: The End is Like Dinosaurs
Words speak louder than inaction screams a man in need
(Well here I am...)
Thoughts he has should render him incapable to lead
(But here I am...)
(It feels right again...)

I am finally getting used to the idea -
That my identity should be so much more than I've allowed it to become.

It will never be easy...
Track Name: So Are We
We don't have to say a word with a view like this...
We'll just keep on watching...

Lightning flashes through the skies.
The reflection's in your eyes...
The storm is getting ever closer
But so are we...

So are we...
Track Name: Waltz of the Chupacabra
Something dammed my stream of consciousness. I'm only getting a few drops out at a time. You'd think by now they could have bottled some for sale in grocery lines across the USA...

And all I see clearly are insides of eyelids...
I'm nursing a break in a heart that's not there...
I long to feel anything other than my confusion...
I'm trapped in a silent, lucid nightmare...

I wake up.

The only thing I feel inside are fault lines shifting. The clock is ticking. The lights are flipping themselves on and off - the walls inside my memory I can hear my father. He says "Keep at this!" I ask, "Why bother?" The ones who make it out alive it seems are far and few. The rest of us - we just have to make due.

Prison cell apartment walls they lock away unfinished dreams that may never see the light of day again. Shadows of reality and a life of mediocrity, they usher in this stagnation.
Track Name: Riding Dragons Through a F*cking Time Vortex
Go on, tell me I can't. I want to hear it from you.
'Cause I feast on the flames, I pour your doubt into a pint.

I consume every backhanded compliment in the room...
And you and I both know we'll be the first to sell out the moon...
We'll be there soon...

They listen with their eyes...
Some makeup, a breakdown, the right friends, they dumb down the sound.
Track Name: Working on My Vertical Leap
Where I stand:
On a rickety bridge over top shark infested waters.
Back and forth (in) the space between "welcome back!" and "who the hell are you to even be here?"

Threads of rope they strain...
The poor muscles in my brain can't keep pace with misconceptions of the heart...

I'm through repenting...
Your eyes, my soul, six strings so - unrelenting...
The only thing I'll have to compromise is everything.

I don't ever wanna give up on this. You're the only place that - you feel like home...
Track Name: Paralleling Lines
This town is dried out...
Feel the ground cave and creak as we move forward.
My head is fried out...
But I left the heart and soul all undercooked and mushy.
My eyes are cried out...
Over paralleling lines. Different stories, different time that we will spend apart.

It's all so different now...
It's like we went from Friday nights to "Sunday morning coming down..."
You can't forgive me now...
But who could really blame you? Except me at my worst, that is, of course.
I can't forget you now...
Like a dagger through the heart. Deserving lyrics far more sharp than what I offer.

Aren't we too young to feel buried and cling to the past?