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She Writes

by VAN STEE

VAN STEE returns with their first new song since releasing their debut album WE ARE. The new single “She Writes” is written about a woman celebrating the memory of her father through writing a comic book based on their fictional adventures as a super hero team.

The song features production work by Lance W Conrad, owner and operator at Humans Win! Studio in N.E Minneapolis. The song features, at times, more of a dance feel than VAN STEE’s previous singles from WE ARE as well as string work by local violinist and sound manipulater David Gerald Sutton (davidgsutton.com/). It is also the first time the audience will hear a new lineup of VAN STEE featuring Jimmy Stofer (Weather Maps, The Fray, Rose Hill Drive) on bass and Matt Vannelli (Munqs) on guitar on record.

VIDEO

VIDEO PREMIERE: HERE COMES THE FIRE (FEAT. HALEY)

Written, Produced and Directed by Toph Heubach

Video Created, Directed & Edited by Brant Miller & Ryan Underbakke
Featuring Ryan Lear, Jane Froiland, Keely Wolter, Brant Miller, Ryan Underbakke, Josh Kaplan, Charlie Van Stee

Live In-Studio performance of WE ARE for The Current's Local Show recorded at Humans Win! with Jarod Hadaway and Lance Conrad. Video was shot by Piper Bruse, Eliza Lynard and Alex Ward.

Video made by our very own Josh Kaplan about pronouncing the name VAN STEE.  In anticipation of our May run at the Kitty Kat Club in 2012

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LYRICS FOR WE ARE:

WE ARE

We are 

The sons of a revolution 

We are

These grounds 

I will pick every bone, construct it

And build what I found

Their lives

And the eyes that were meant to feed them

Until their demise

Cleaned white

Smelling of sterile solutions

In artificial light

They joke 

Of a beast that would hunt them, surely, 

a long time ago

Kids smile

Its teeth would have taken their heads off 

In single file

Their fuels

The skins of this spotted history

Would have made better boots

 

SEND IT OVER

I know that you know

Which direction to go

It’s covered in lies and you know it

You’re talking with Matt

About the living in France

Whatever they arm you with suits ya

The bomb will explode

Your words will implode

It’s covered in lies and you know it

The tables will turn 

As the living get burned

Whatever they give you say suits ya

A three dollar map

Shows the working class 

Spread out in homes across nowhere

The stench of your cool

Gives you nothing to do

You always feel right and that suits ya

Go out to the streets

Everyone that you meet

They want to be close to the money

Still holding their hands 

Like a boy on the stand

You know they would like to sleep soundly

Ever still I feel my body

Aching breaking still it’s sobbing

Broken hearts are loosing interest 

Make or break it’s your decision

 

COLOR IN THE PAPER PLANES

Still

The water stood

Look

You see the wood

Gold

There must be pounds

Cut

Inside of crowns

Dive

Down to your ship

Kick

So hard you swim

Raise

Your sails and roes

You know that it won’t

You know you must go

Color in the paper planes

Line it up and take your aim

Cut the wind and dip down south

Fly it so it can’t be found

Make a path of rotted sticks

Fill yourself with nervousness

Break the rules and tell no one

Never stop don’t hurt someone

Fists

Of solid gold

Shine

Through finger bones

Doors

Are broken down

Time is running out

 

WHEN YOUR HEART IS MENDING

When your heart is mending

Faces seem the same

Is it worth defending

To make the same mistakes

When your heart is mending

When your heart is mending

Hands will touch the ground

Can you feel it sending

Grass around your thumbs

When your heart is mending

When your heart is mending

Don’t chain the waves again

Just let our ships roll in

In the corner left for dead

I’ll pick you up and hold your head, I know

Said before the ship would break

I’ll fix you up, I’ll fix you up, yes I know

In between

Your eyes are gunning

But you’ll hide away and

In between

Your lips are moving

Saying something

Quite amusing

I don’t know what I’m going to do

Stay right in

Till’ I turn blue

 

GONE TO RUSSIA

Don’t leave me

I’m broken

I would walk beside you

you know I would

Cold as winter

feel the sand move

Close my eyes 

The sun disappears ahead

Off a freeway

Past the garden

through the water down to ocean floor

said I’m leaving

gone to Russia

I will walk right into the banks and shores

when I get there

put my finger to the air 

Grab a stone and up I go

Pull my heavy legs and bones

Hear the words

of broken verbs

Houses old

Wooden stoves and secrets no one knows

See the fields where

Men have perished

I will eat according to their behalf

Stain my cloths on 

a bed of leaves where

I will make a night the is surely cold

I will breath it

I will feel it

I can’t take my eyes off the sea again

I know I’m leaving

and I'm broken

I won’t live 

I'll die on my way back home

 

WHEN THE HAMMER COMES

Caught in the breeze that fills the air

Over the bridge to central square

I know that you want to take me there

Missing your face and graying hair

Your shirts they are pressed and ready to wear

People you meet don’t even care

Your bible is marked with Sunday’s words

The ones they will hear outside the hearse

These are your actions

Lives into fractions

When the hammer comes down

When the hammer comes down

You will be out of it

When the hammer comes

When the hammer comes

I will pay for it

Now that I need you you’re not there

Halting my youth your bones don’t care

Times they have changed and gone a stray

Solutions are few, but everyday

 

PAINTED GLASS

How to convey

You want to begin

Feeling someday

You might even win

You know in your heart

You’d do it for love

Broken apart

You’d crumble to dust

Looking through this painted glass

Good times you knew would never last

And all the complicated weight upon your knees and hips would break

Beard and a shirt

Won’t make me a star

Swallow your youth

And work a new job

Nobody can

So nobody will

I offer my map

You offer your quill  

Lights

Filled with melody

That will eat your heart out

Words 

Disintegrate 

Right off the page

They will eat your heart out

I don’t mind the thought of a night

Where I sleep forever

Through this

But not through this

While it eats my heart out

 

STRING OF LIGHTS

A string of lights invade

An otherwise empty sky

A spark of blue, a shadow 

Crosses the moon tonight

The smell of dew, the warmth 

of our bundled up shoulders

will we ever get up

to do this when we’re older

While you’re in her arms

While you’re turning

While you’re making hearts

While you’re burning

With the smell of skin

While you’re turning

We start the car we drive out 

to a small bakery

the coffee’s hot the morning 

donuts are sugary

We’re driving back we’re driving 

as slow as we ever have

I look at you I welcome 

the time that we both just had

THIS SOUL I’M BREAKING

I will relieve myself 

Of blanket thoughts and sour gazes

I don’t know what to call it

Except sentimental overstating

I will believe myself

With inspiration comes no warning

Are you the chosen one

Divided in a million pieces

This soul this soul this soul I’m breaking

Pages are lit with stars

And full of mud and dust to fade it

Holding the handle bars

Won’t stop you from the taste of pavement

Spilling out the words 

You’ve shown to them that care to listen 

Show them your colored hands

Black and bruised you’ve often made it

Drop in a coin that falls 

Deep beneath the drifting current

Hearing the waves you know

Your wish will reach there

In a hurry

I will divulge myself

As keeper of your simple secrets

They will be in the park 

The dogs will surly stop to eat it

BETTER MAN

Your doors

Are painted Ice Cream colors

Your bed 

Is filled with pink marshmallow foam

Your rugs

Are woven taffy string-lets

And your floors

Are planks of chocolate covered bones

You don’t know

How it goes

I’d like to be a better man

The rainbow

Will wrap around your waist

And the sun

Will shine with candy corn sun rays 

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