by Ekra

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released February 7, 2012

Ekra is:
Mrs. Press - drums/vox/keys
Mr. Press - bass/vox/keys

written, recorded, and produced by Ekra
mixed and mastered by Mrs. Press at Room 12 Records



all rights reserved


Ekra Queens, New York

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Track Name: Tributary
Small drive is no percent
when you’ve got white teeth, beef and vim;
schooner silhouettes, 3 foot symmetry.
And keep it like sugar, that gets no sugar.
By its size, a bee’s the same.
It’s the space of its sweet.

Still raging in a lake of ancestors,
learning to give a little less.
Your favorite mourning,
manes in your cup of coffee.
A father is no longer a raft,
you reach an equator,
equal the lengths.
Exhaust myself, exhaust yourself,
destination rewards, pack up your points.

Crack your knuckles,
everything in threes.
A joke in laugh,
a decent notch.
Out of luck like a barrel.

Rise like Monday morning.
Sleep like heavy weights,
there right below the punch you are born.
The dead sea makes an anchor,
want is a weightless, effort is a father--
a structure of solemn, solid arms.

Birthday, your throat slips.

The dead sea makes an anchor,
want is a weightless, effort is a father--
a structure of solemn solid arms.
Pleasant days were soft tempers
carried its rain like a pallbearer,
and raise them ravens.
Raised them ravens.
Track Name: A Lil' Called Strength
Fiction stays violet,
smears, molts violet.
A knife to cut the roses on your plate;
weekend-white walls, orange creme cake.

You need snakes to survive.
A down payment on a mile.
Got buckets of milk,
elevation make you sick,
son at its closest lens of warmth.
Hew an amur.
A kitchen in a carcass
with concoctions to heal
a ribcage bursting an acre of teal;
it’s the glowing that holds
our bodies back

and leads us out of crippling rituals--
no more blood sheds, equal signs,
or gasoline.

Ignore the wants.
Neglect the nouns.
Ignore the wants.
Speak in tongues;
vibrate your hoodoo.
A pony paints itself bone white;
Through the streets clefts and shit.

I don’t wish for death anymore.
If we appear flexible

men buzz in council,
light is irrelevant.
Space is only necessary,
this is not true.

Get lost for years,
less charm more like exchanges
of vernacular.
Learn to speak like wrists,
a silent flow, a sun dial purrs,
the good boy is quick.
I am honest.
See me stay shorter days.

I don’t wish for death anymore,
if we appear flexible i can--
lead us out of crippling rituals.
No more blood sheds,
equal signs, or gasoline.
Track Name: Ruble Blues
Build a vault
under your palms--
gray paint, fear of stock.

I am the next herd.

Change your mind,
be a mime.
Beg for your knees,
let your vampires breathe.
Long in the mines,
give me my Gertrude Stein.
Beg for you knees,
let your vampires breathe.

Relax: you can buy an island for yourself.
Relax: create links and caches.
Relax: you can worry again.