Self​-​Titled 7"

by Nevasca

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1.
04:19
2.
03:57

about

Recorded in Risa's Apartments / Cerber House Studio / Six Feet Under studio / Redneck Studio during the whole winter of 2014-2015

Mixed by Artyom Lobyntsev (Seashell Sound)

Mastered by Will Killingsworth (Dead Air Studios)

Artwork by Valik Lapshin

Available on vinyl (100 black / 100 white / 50 orange) through the labels listed below:

Stricly No Capital Letters (UK) / Miss The Stars (GE) / TRVS Records (RU) / Ruined Smile (AU) / Samegrey Records (UA) / Dingleberry (DE) / Voice Of The Unheard (FR) / Tadzio Records (DE)

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released March 29, 2015

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Nevasca Murmansk, Russian Federation

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Track Name: Elsewhere
will you be proud of me, dad?
I probably won't become a the man
you always wanted me to be
I just wade through my dreams
and wait for a better chance to realize myself

I've already planned my life
but I don't know the end

promise me
you won't forget

no matter where the wind will blow my skin
no matter who I will become
you won't forget me
and when our family tree finally will burn
promise me
you will understand it

and I hope
you could give me a hug

and let me go in peace
Track Name: Hopscotch
and I know full well you won’t be there
you won’t be in the street
in the hum that buzzes
from the arc lamps at night
nor in the gesture
of selecting from the menu
nor in the smile
that lightens people packed into the subway

nor in the borrowed books
nor in the see-you-tomorrow
you won’t be in my dreams
in my word’s first destination
(nor will you be in a telephone number)

or in the color of a pair of gloves or a blouse
I’ll get angry, love, without it being on account of you
(and I’ll buy chocolates but not for you)

I’ll stop at the corner you’ll never come to
and I’ll say the words that are said
and I’ll eat the things that are eaten
and I’ll dream the dreams that are dreamed

and I know full well you won’t be there
nor here inside
in the prison where I still hold you
nor there outside
in this river of streets and bridges

you won’t be there (at all)
you won’t even be a memory
and when I think of you
I’ll be thinking th a thought
that’s obscurely trying
to recall you