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Anthaupt

by Soldat Hans

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1.
2.
Anthaupt 10:44
I would if i slept. But there was no way to tell. Ephemeral praise (to) this pilot light. Non sequitur scenes from this parade we stepped into. Oh well. I will remain unknown. Well but gone. Where do we find ourselves when that great snow comes late, when all that remains is what’ve built in slow cold hours. Of absent voices; this list of panics we found our names on. Rest once upon an other! Knowing you might someday come, there was no way to tell. You look sterling. You look sterling. I would if i slept. But there was no way. Ephemeral praise (to) this pilot light. Awaiter of woe; from this parade.
3.
Speechwriter 15:03
And we made a mess of it. We slid out of reach. We scarcely spoke of this that day. We fell oh so far from favor. These cloud-led shadows of the blessed (and) sudden blown skies. All lit from within. Never made it up that hill. They covered their mouths with out-of-print pamphlets. She called me her ghost, some mistaken idea of hope. Oh Well, i found it hard to take that some things remain broken. At least once there were promises made. As i scra- ped past these half-scabbed wounds this sweet and promising scent meant to tell what could not be told again. Some fragrance of loss and swept away glitter. Sightly bent blazing stars, they once appeared in shoals of bloom near this episodic perfume river. In spits of rain. So much beauty and no end of wonders. In lieu of flowers we’ll attend each others days with one arm cut and one unhinged. They will disneyficate all that‘s left. And how un- prepared we‘ve always been. At least once there were promises made. This market has outgrown our consent. Another three day fever. Another forthright farrago of lies. I’ve left this earth in their eyes. Tell me, who are you building this for? All torn within this scattered light. There was enough to love to numb my tongue forever. In the end we’ll all be begging for the wolves to pass us by. I would claw the ground to retrieve the warmth of her. This is nothing compared to the pain you left us to deal with. The taste of it never left my mouth. Our promise remained a rather stereotyped apology. In letraset letters you asked for our pardon. Through these caked-up fragments of some desperate narrative we already found what even terrified the most. Our laughter remained a bellowing reminder of some vague reflective pain. Some flower eating audience still echoes these eerie decades of champagne and spiteful regrets. The Third order of glitz. We’ll never lower our eyes to this scene. There will be cadillacs in the sky. There will be things missing. There will be noise. This very flag can‘t be hung upside down to signify distress. We’ll cough up one last speech Against the Meaningless of the cult. ((Ray Charles.)) I’ll keep this to myself. I’ll keep this to myself. We will celebrate. We’ll celebrate this slow decay. Bright lights. Without a gaze of loss, we’ll celebrate this slow decay and wishful worries and nods ; our worries all gone. We’ll celebrate. We made a mess.
4.
5.
All the lights remain focused on regrets. Take these fallen hands and place them well. Place them well. End of shot, reel four. We’ve taped this long before this far-fetched script was shown in all scenes. In all scenes. A yello- wed scrap of newsprint said that we would make it through. I’ve been counting all the cracks in every other sky. Velvet fell sweet baby’s breath; every single day. I was told that there would be a beautiful delay. Take care of everything. Take care of everything. Ive been forcing myself not to forget. Rest once upon an other. Whistler sea to sky climb. Whistler sea to sky climb. Take care of everything. Take care of everything. Take care of everything. Whistler sea to sky climb. Hold on. Gone all of our doubts. Gone all of our doubts. Well, tell them: These barren bells rang low. They will hang low. These barren bells rang low.
6.
Hold on. Hold on to what was done. Hold on. Hold on to what was done to you. Hold on. Drag us below. Hide away in tomorrow’s sinking sun. Hold on my love. Dressed up with hope and washed-out pearls. Hold on. With- held all our skies and blinding lights. Hold on. Guide us through this hail of stars. Whatever we’ll take apart. Hold on my love. Hold on to these glittering seas. Hold on to stale champagned farewells. Hold on. Drag us below. Eyes alight. Consider yourself as one of those weighed down with debts pale marzipan dolls. Held down. Sprawled out into light which fed off our fall. Spits of rain would hail down on what we held dear to this day. Far-off flames and spider-tailed snakes will rest upon all unknown. This blackened book we swore upon fed all our cheerless ideas with hope. All our most precious ones will be gone. They will be. Carry yourself through these days of loud lights. All that we take apart will be there. They will be. It became clear that we’d fold all of this. All of this. All of this. Rest once upon an other. Rest. Rest once. Hold on to what was done to you dear. Hold on to. Guide us through this well of bliss we tore down; washed in glorious sunshine, washed in glorious sunshine.

about

Songs and lyrics by Soldat Hans
Recorded, produced and mixed by Philip Harrison
at Bau2 Studios in Winterthur
Mastered by Magnus Lindberg in Stockholm
Released through Wolves and Vibrancy Records
Artwork by Soldat Hans

credits

released April 22, 2022

Collaborators:

Carol Schuler - Vocals
Daniel Gisler - Rhodes, Organs, Synthesizer
Sebastian Koelman - Trombone
Julia Pfenninger - Cello
Philip Harrison - Backing Vocals

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all rights reserved

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about

Soldat Hans Winterthur, Switzerland

Soldat Hans is a downtempo folk doom band from Winterthur, Switzerland.

NO RACISM.
NO SEXISM.
NO HOMOPHOBIA.

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