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Lovely Mathematician

from Symmetry Dead by Shiny Red Nothing

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lyrics

she spoke that sweet language
killed me cemetery dead
she spoke that sweet language
killed me cemetery dead
she spoke that sweet language
killed me cemetery dead
now the vibrations from her tongue still bounce through my head

she shook her tambourine
invoked a sweet spirit
she shook her tambourine
invoked a sweet spirit
she shook her tambourine
invoked a sweet spirit
now my body’s left me writhing freely, making me sweat

I said some cosmic theme’s come conquered me and lulled me to being
some cosmic theme’s come conquered me and lulled me to being
some cosmic theme’s come conquered me and lulled me to being
now my heart’s a beating constant of her equation

she worked out hoodoo ragtime
with femme caramel skin
she worked out hoodoo ragtime
with femme caramel skin
she worked out hoodoo ragtime
with femme caramel skin
now my two-beat pulse is racing out of syncopation

I said some cosmic theme’s come conquered me and lulled me to being
some cosmic theme’s come conquered me and lulled me to being
some cosmic theme’s come conquered me and lulled me to being
now my heart’s a beating factor of her equation

she rode ellipse around me
friended me like a fire
she rode ellipse around me
friended me like a fire
she rode ellipse around me
friended me like a fire
now my satellite’s in orbit with copernican spin

I said some cosmic theme’s come conquered me and lulled me to being
some cosmic theme’s come conquered me and lulled me to being
some cosmic theme’s come conquered me and lulled me to being
now my heart’s a beating factor of her equation
I said a lovely mathematician’s got me factored in

credits

from Symmetry Dead, released November 18, 2020

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Shiny Red Nothing Holland, Michigan

Embark on a sonic sojourn. Surf waves of joyous, freaky indie rock. Make a left turn into a an offbeat township in the American south of an alternate dimension, & then find yourself stoned & a little drunk, peeking into the side offices of Hell’s halls for the giddy thrill of it. Become possessed with an intimate knowledge of how Shiny Red Nothing necessitates their own genre.

Blackgrass. ... more

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