Pomelo Tongue

by Expeditions

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released October 1, 2014

Guitar/Vocals: Zac Gaskins
Percussion: Jakob Fox
Bass: Alec Mayhugh

Album art by Nick Tuke

Recorded/Mixed/Mastered by the wonderful Eric Tuffendsam at Moonlight Studios



all rights reserved


Expeditions Cincinnati, Ohio

We play stuff that we like.

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Track Name: Hello Elefante
I’ve seen stars full of dust and the clutter,
but I’ve laid waste to the hope ‘til it shattered
just long enough to act unreliable.
It seems so hopeless to find just another…
Track Name: Pomelo Tongue
This solemn state derails my train of thought,
exhuming hours from the station’s clock.
Savor it.
Savor it.

If you wanted more,
then allocate my will not to be a bore
for you and all your strength,
oh it must be great just to be awake.
I’m so low.

Floored by a condition
that these frets simply console.
Tied to intuition:
“I know something you don’t,” and that’s the best part.
Spilling paint all over the highway,
just to see where they would go.
Shapes, patterns and colors
tricking your brain to see the fabrications
of intrinsic feats of bravery.
Nothing matters but humanity.
Savor it.
Savor it.
Track Name: Wax Teeth
Keeping up on what you have been taking from me,
starts to leave a space where all the trouble should be.

Found that shattered window
and his arrow too.
Hope the glass found its way to you.

She gets scared when she’s impaired with everyone.
Hopeless hearts pull mindless thoughts away from the gun.

He lead me right back to where I’m supposed to be,
but she saw through, save for the oceans full of you.
Track Name: Pursed Lips
A sight to see, ignoring yet another one.
I’d like just to see her enjoy some time alone instead of on the phone.
Trace the dots to find most of all the pieces.
They hide in the corners to make your life a home on the bottom shelf.

Holding your breath until no one can see you
break through the walls that keep circles beneath you.
A day to soon and the clock’s running backwards,
tomorrow we’ll see why we all run like cowards.
Track Name: Champagne Breakfast
Awake and faking bouts of grandeur just to keep me alive.
I've never seemed so out of touch with living colors,
as I fade back to white by tonight.

Sympathy is wasted on me.
It’s not like I don’t know.
Bury me with the contents of the sea.
It’s not like I don’t know.

Explorations proving nothing have drove me insane.
I’d wish to be a spark of happiness to strangers,
but I’d rather be home, on my own.

Reading all but the fiction
wouldn't get you far.
You have to know what you’re missing,
just to see who you are.