DRACONID

A music project between Hailey Rolon & Ryan Bradley (aka BIGpony777)

SELF TITLED EP

One guitar, one voice. This entire analog EP was recorded in one continuous session onto a TASCAM 4-track. It’s comprised of 6 songs, 10 minutes, that blister into themes of chronic illness, the burden of physicality, and coming of age in a body that rejects itself.

one of a kind CASSETTE TAPES

All analog tapes, ripped straight from the original master tape.
Every J-card was handmade on a hand press using type, each with an individualized drawing inside.

DRACONID MV

  1. Daughter
    (Instrumental)

  2. Light

    Light under the tree
    glows orange
    in the winter time

    The leaves
    eyes on the bark
    wind on my teeth

    It’s cold,
    can you hear me?

    Mountain so tall
    Mist carry on,
    Don’t follow me

  3. Body
    Broken body of mine, I can’t fix you
    Budding flesh of light, I want to mend you

    Unbecoming me
    Veins constricted,
    cold unfeeling fingers,
    wrap around my…

    I can’t
    I can’t
    But I want to

    Broken body of mine, I can’t fix you
    Budding flesh of light, I want to mend you

    I can’t
    I can’t
    I can’t
    But I want to

    I hold myself on the floor for hours like this
    Reaching out for the door, can’t remember what life was before this

    A week at a time
    I’m weak all the time
    I can’t face you
    I can’t face you like this

4. Touch
My walk home was all blue
each driver that passed looked just like you

My fingers search for somewhere to touch
an iron clasp, an icy clutch

and I’m trying to remember what you said to me

Candle light envelops me
It’s the warmth that I need
Red filling the room, flames in the shape of you

Paper skin,
I’m shut in,
Drink the gin,
Where have you been?

5. Drug

I wake up
There’s something I need
It’s in a drawer
It’s what I bleed for
In my drug store
Purple bed sore

I’ve been prescribed something cold
Spreading red and uncontrolled
Look at this place I’ve gotten to know
Rotting flesh I’ve come to withhold

I’m the silent observer
Standing in the dark corner of this room
I’ve watched you toss and turn and tightly hold yourself as you weep and bleed straight from the womb
Like the cat that hides itself
Like the bottles on the shelf

Wrapped tighter
Little writer
My pill biter
Until there’s nothing left inside of you

6. January

I get red hands in January
I’ve told myself
It’s ordinary

Have you ever held death?
Felt it’s small, shaking breaths?

I’ve grown older in January
I’ve asked how much
Is hereditary?

My wrist burns in your grasp
I can’t feel it anymore

Let me go, let me go, let me go back home
I want to go, I want to go, I want to go alone

I stuffed you down
I watched you die
I ran away
I hid inside

Please forgive me,
oh January

. . . creatureism . . .