Music & Lyrics

Music & lyrics © 2012 Sunniva Lind • Svart Katte Records

Vocals & piano by Sunniva Lind • Guitars by Joe Danher (All In The Family, Johnny Boy, Circular) & James Whitehouse (Metal Giant, Circular) • Bass by Joshua Ballantyne • Drums by Rodrigo Alves. Mixed by Tony Draper • Mastered by Robin Schmidt at 24-96 Mastering


Metal Giant


Hey Stranger. Wipe that mask off your face. You don’t have to demonstrate your power

You don’t have to let me know you’re in charge. No one here wants you any harm.

I think I know you and I know I love you, so

Please – I don’t care if you’re shy. Wash the coldness from your eyes. I would love to see you cry


Hey Stupid. Wipe that face off your face. Who’s this smug fuck and why’s he wasting my time?

You don’t fool anyone and I am not impressed with your act

Who needs an armor in, oh, this kind of weather, so

Please –


Stop these fucking games, I’m not interested in fighting you

You tease me with the door but never let me see your hurt

I wanna be surrounded by it, I’ll eat anything you’ve got

I wanna look you up and down, so drop it now, and let me


Metal Giant, get your shoulders down and let me see you, forget what you’re not allowed

Wipe that smirk off your mouth, it ain’t improving your looks. Get your impressions straight, get your nose out of those books

And come one and,

Please –


All In The Family


Burned child, your name is Silence

Do you hide what you know of violence?

Do you bear your brother’s enemies? Reminisce

Ooh, it’s all in the family


Mama, cry. The spark’s igniting

Why try? They will not stop their fighting.

Do you fear that this is how it’ll be, eternally?

Ooh, it’s all in the family


Hits don’t burn like the fear that turns all the Scared Little Boys stern

Poor, tortured soul. Unholy, unwhole. Scared Little Boy, only thirty years old

Transfer the pain, and hit me again


Lady, why are you repeating the past with

each new guy, do you so need that beating?

Does it tear your precious heart apart?

Ooh, it’s all in the family


Hits don’t burn like the fear that turns all the Scared Little Boys stern

Poor, tortured soul. Unholy, unwhole. Scared Little Boy, only thirty years old

Transfer the pain, and hit me again


Your hits don’t burn me

Scared Little Boy you are


Johnny Boy


There goes Johnny, oh, that lonely boy. Ain’t nobody calling to him

Ain’t nobody wondering where he goes

He’s a funny one, that Johnny Boy. Too intense, too explosive

One of them nobody really knows


I wonder where he picks it up. What made him the way that he is

I wonder where he picks it up.


He is not like us, that Johnny Boy. Doesn’t laugh along with our jokes

Don’t act like we’ve grown to think is best.

Need an attitude adjustment, boy? Acting all special and different

Why can’t he conform like all the rest?


Go home alone again, Johnny. No one sees you, no ones there to release you

Give our love to the family, hey. Funny, funny Johnny, Johnny on the side


I wonder where he picks it up. I wonder where he picks it up.


What is going on with Johnny Boy? He is here but really he isn’t

It’s like his mind is never at rest

Don’t seem scared of anything, that boy, and that makes me wary of him

Oh, what would turn a young man fearless?


Go home alone again, Johnny.




A breathy voice reserves the right

to whisper nothings you won’t like

Close enough so you can feel

his scratchy chin, his grinding teeth

Then, leaning back, his drinking hand

playfully on the table taps

The other resting in his lap,

oh, don’t you know, here sits The Man


His fingers could grip around your knee

and squeeze until you bite your tongue

How tiny, girl, that you now seem

and you can see he prefers them young

While paralyzed by the headlights

how simple, you think, it would be

To raise yourself, create a scene,

to bark the words that you would like


But in his gaze you’ve lost the skill

of moving from your own fee will

Malicious eyes inspect your skin,

angrily captures your sweet eyes

Though not perceiving what’s within,

grasping the chance that with you lies


Oh, Mister has a steady hand.

The palms are red and the backs are tanned

Oh, working hands are strong enough

and working hands can be mighty rough

And in a corner, frozen still,

where nobody but you can see

then Misters working hands are free

to discover as they like


But little girl, you’re not that small,

or you would not be here at all

You have a voice, you have a head,

although right now they seem quite dead

Have you leapt outside yourself?

A clever girl would never stay

to help a hunter catch his pray.

Are you still here or someplace else?


Well, the real danger here is not

the man who’s attention you’ve caught

The force that holds you here tonight

is that which lies within your own core

The enemy you should fight

is the Misters who’ve been there before.


© Sunniva Lind Høverstad 2012

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