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Glass, the Wall's Ghost II

by Glass, the Wall's Ghost

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Music and lyrics by Glass, the Wall's Ghost.

Produced by Glass, the Wall's Ghost.

Recorded from January 2014 to July 2015 at home using a Tascam DP-02 digital 8-track portastudio and one AT2020 condenser mic.

All instruments (acoustic and electric guitars, bass guitar, piano, keyboards, drums and other hand-held percussion, ukulele, kalimba, found objects, etc.) and vocals by Glass, the Wall's Ghost.

Glass, the Wall's Ghost is Eric Beeny.

Cover image by Carrie LaMacchia.


released August 11, 2015



all rights reserved


Eric Beeny Buffalo, New York

Glass, the Wall's Ghost is the main musical project of Eric Beeny. His side projects include The Immortals Act Their Age (ambient, drone), Failsafe-B (abstract, political hip-hop) and, in collaboration with his daughter, The Strawberry Orcas.

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Track Name: We Found This Labyrinth
There's no more the evidence can prove:
There's no hope but what we wish were true
ever since we found this labyrinth
where our innocence died so long ago today--
it's silence a song we never learned to play,
all its chords and melodies...
There's no hope that won't begin with lies.
There's no home but where we said goodbye...
Track Name: Pink Horizon
In this dream, I was wide awake.
From this island I cried your name—
you're not the only one alone...

Our last kiss wasn't my first mistake,
slipped and fell down your fire escape
after I walked you home

where stars wait between
your lips like actors
before curtains part...

Woke up wondering what went wrong,
learned to play all your favorite songs
but you're not listening now...

Life is death's only camouflage.
Love's a desert, we're the mirage—
in nostalgic waves we drown...

The pink horizon
spreads far too thin,
rubbed by night into
the sky like lotion...

You're not the only
one alone...
Track Name: Magnetic Moon
You’re watering the fires,
watching your garden bloom.
On stems of smoke they flower,
clouds’ umbrella-shaped bruise
hides a magnetic moon…

It’s never too late to hesitate,
cut holes in my raincoat.
You only escape when you feel safe—
we’re both in the same boat…

Before we start to speak,
there’s so much left to say
before our blood swims away…

Pouring ropes of glue
down your throat to
renew the cliché
of your broken heart—

magnetic moon,
our blood swims away…
Track Name: Mirrors Collide
You spend your nights wondering
where you could've gone.
When you're alone you miss yourself the most.
Every time you see yourself in the mirror,
you look as though you've just seen a ghost.
Your reflection just stares back—
With you there it's never felt so alone...

Every night you sleep in your quarantine bed,
always the same dream that someday
you'll wake up to find you're the reflection,
waiting for one of your selves to speak...

The empty spaces between us,
empty spaces we are...
When empty spaces surround us
we're all they reflect, and
when empty spaces collide,
there's nothing left...

And it's all you're waiting for...
Track Name: Youth is a Phantom Limb
The anesthetic won't wear off.
Your shadow's dreaming blood dissolves,
such an obscene murmuring pulse.

Pupils dilated like suns eclipsed,
it's too cold to feel how numb
you've become—your own mime's tongue.

Youth is just a phantom limb,
absence its only pseudonym—
crucified clock-hands museum.

You've buried all your shovels now—
curtains drawn, hiding in the house
from shadows wandering around.

It's all you're wondering about...
Track Name: Juggling Raindrops
Pretend not to remember the world is a heart
you feel long ago stopped beating, gave up trying to restart.
Mouth to mouth resuscitation, your every kiss a scar…

The sun’s a lung to fill in, moonlight’s mirror breaking again…

It seems like every time you leave you forget to bring
your turtle shell umbrella and chameleon mood ring…

Shaking the cold from your skin, knock and the world won’t let you in…

Inoculate this sorrow, cure what’s left to feel.
Follow the mazes in your footprints, you’re lost standing still,
juggling all these raindrops, trying not to spill…

Holding your breath underwater, the aquarium’s landfill...

Your flooding eyes change color, the world springs back to life
for no other…
Track Name: To Let the Light In
The parasites you love are lonely.
They couldn’t take another lie.
The paradise you hide could only
forget to lock the door behind…

In reverse you sleepwalk back home
through the catacombs of all you’ve known.
Compliments of love that fell cold—
your lonely afterwards, it burns…

The parasites you love are yawning,
collapsing lungs into a sigh.
You're paralyzed by trust in warnings
which make the symptoms wonder why…

You dream aloud about the silence.
Your voice is violence, I’m convinced.
Your time’s aperture won’t widen,
or even smile enough to let the light in…

If your only hope can make you numb,
and your only home
isn’t where you come from…
Track Name: There is No Sky
It’s probably you I’m looking for.
It’s probably you I think I need.
As long as the flashlight stains the darkness
where the blindfold leaks and the silence creaks—
the window painted closed where there is no sky…

You’re only safe from all the fears you can’t control,
and you’re only wasting all the years you can’t recall…

Your lonely art and prosthetic heart
won’t be alarmed when the sun falls
below your radar…

It’s probably you I’m looking for.
It’s probably you I think I need.
The song of our last night stains the dawn’s flesh
where the blindfold weeps and the eyeless peek—
the canvas painted closed, and there is no sky…
Track Name: Amnesia's Compass
Finding amnesia’s compass,
its needle autographs your name
in the sky.

Punctuates the anonymous
star acupuncturing your
every sigh.

Your secrets are nervous you’ll forget
the deaths of those you haven’t kept…

You shadow glows dark thinking
of all the rainbows you miss
every night.

Skywriting your pseudonym
across the blue of clouded thoughts
bleached white.

You’re anxious and secretly obsessed
with all the light you can’t reflect…

Your weakness for worthless words unsaid
pretends the truth is not what you meant…

Stethescopic headphones crack
the code of your heart’s safe combination…

Pried open you find there’ nothing left…

Your secrets are nervous you’ll forget
the deaths of those you haven’t kept…

Your memory’s contagious neglect,
dreaming of nights you haven’t slept…
Track Name: Satellite-Dish Contact Lenses
You’ve faked every dream you’ve ever had.
It’s been a long night, but now it’s passed.
Day-old light is all you’ll find—
looking back you’ll wish you were blind…

The sun sets in my room, rises in yours.
You turn the light out and close the door.
We were old as we are young—
my past on the tip of your tongue…

I can’t remember a time without amnesia…

Your venus fly trap eyelids
closing down on me ever since.
Horizons yawn, we fall asleep—
our nightly comas all too brief…

Skydiving onto your mattress,
that’s how you felt.
With satellite-dish contact lenses
you gaze out into yourself…

Last night you had the strangest dream…

Forever went into sudden-death overtime.
You strung clouds with Christmas lights,
a long way left yet to climb
back down the ladder from the edge,
skydiving onto your mattress—

I don’t believe a word you said…
Track Name: All Our After Alls
All our after alls…
We still forget to trade amnesias.
It’s what we know by heart
we need most to be reminded of…

In the long run, we’re all the same age.
So long it seems we wait
only to find the book ends
on a blank page…
Track Name: Prosthetic Heart (Hidden Death Metal Track)
Clench your gun in the fist
you'd use to punch me...

Wrench your guts with the gift
you'd use to love me...

To bleed jealous colors,
plucking eyelashes like thorns
from wounded rainbows...

All chests filled with toy hearts,
hatred born of your fist's womb...

Tectonic plates of my skull
quake and shift—
every thought of life,
continental drift...

Prosthetic heart,
paralyzed from the start...

You are the sky,
your scabs my clouds—
fingers scratch as you
rain down...

Humor must be the seventh sense...

Fortune-tellers read my palm-prints
pressed into the sediment...

The sky is a bottle broken
over my head...

These scabs my clouds—
fingers scratch as you rain down...

Traffic jam on the road to recovery—
or should I choke some more...

Trembling in my veins like a hologram
as mystics play ping-pong
with my third eye while words die...

These scabs my clouds...