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The Dear Hunter

www.absolutepunk.net/thedearhunter
The Dear Hunter
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Location:Boston, MA (USA)
Genres:Progressive / Rock
Band Members:
465 Fans
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NewsThe Dear Hunter Vinyl Re-Presses
 
Triple Crown Records has a vinyl repressing of The Dear Hunter's Acts I, II, and III, including a...
NewsCave & Canary Goods Signs Naive Thieves
 
Cave & Canary Goods, an Equal Vision Records' imprint founded by The Dear Hunterís Casey Crescenzo,...
NewsIntroducing: Fast Astronaut (ex-The Dear...
 
Andy Wildrick (ex-The Dear Hunter/The Junior Varsity) has started a new project Fast Astronaut....
NewsCasey Crescenzo on The Pointless Podcast
 
Casey Crescenzo recently joined the Pointless Podcast to talk about why he left The Receiving End...
NewsPOZ Interview: Casey Crescenzo (The Dear...
 
In a sort-of follow-up to our recent podcast, Casey Crescenzo (The Dear Hunter) spoke with...
Album ReviewDear Hunter, The - Migrant
Posted by justbradley on 05/05/13
Album ReviewDear Hunter, The - Migrant
Posted by Drew Beringer on 04/01/13
Album ReviewDear Hunter, The - An Escape
Posted by justbradley on 03/25/13
Album ReviewDear Hunter, The - The Color Spectrum
Posted by Adam Pfleider on 06/13/11
Album ReviewDear Hunter, The - Act III: Life and Death
Posted by Steve Henderson on 06/22/09
Multimedia9 Gallery Images
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The Dear Hunter - Exclusive Tour Blog
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Act II: The Meaning of,
& All Things Regarding Ms. Leading

~The Procession~

Even in death,
Ms. Terri made sure to smile.

She lied, inanimate on the steps of her home. Her body was slightly broken from the fall, but no amount of battering could deny her elegance. She was survived by her son, who crouched over her, shivering. He washed his hand over her eyelids.


The blood, how it paints such a scene. Foul routine pedigree, mouth agape, stuttered hands attempt to flail, and finally agree. Her heart ceases its rhythm... somewhere trumpets decay. In the front by the well, wishing wishes that deny the stale smell in the hay.
Hey there, no one cry. Place these over her eyes. We are broke and alone... we're all broken alone.
She's inanimate, bloodless elegance
Fatal fascination breeds a bloom of misery
Helpless hiding tongues bathed in revulsion
Here lies unfinished beauty wilting premature
But we can't be too sure.

Reserved; always playing the part of the boy left alone.
He proceeds to the road beyond the home he learned to call his own.


one life for another....
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Last Updated: 08/25/09
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