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Track cover Redeemer

Redeemer

3:58post-punk 2026-05-07

Description

Background Vocalist, Producer, Recording Engineer: Justin Meldal-Johnsen

Recording Engineer, Mixing Engineer: Derek Coburn

Recording Engineer: Matt Peel

Remixing Second Engineer, Recording Engineer: Danny Blackburn

Recording Engineer, Composer Lyricist: Jay Russell

Vocalist, Composer Lyricist: James Smith

Composer Lyricist: Samuel Shipstone

Background Vocalist, Composer Lyricist: Ryan Needham

Composer Lyricist: Christopher Duffin

Mastering Engineer: Felix Davis

Lyrics and translation

Original

You envy the freak.

I can see it in your eyes.

No one is happy with this arrangement.

How could we know any other way to live?

But I'm not scared of all you people no more. No shudders, shakes, or shivers left to give.

Lies served cold with a side of meanness.

We all laugh about it in the right rooms with enough distance in between us.

The mirror's edge, I see an evil genius.

But hope still permeates even at a snail's pace.

Redeemer, you had your fun. Now you're clinging to your rosaries like a nun.

Redeemer, you stole the sun. Now you're orbiting the bullshit of all damage done.

The Taoist monks had good intention playing doctor with what God's got.

We saw divine intervention rattle through the bones of every body that was ever shot.

I wanna be a wart so I can understand.

But I don't wanna know what it's like not to be free.

I wanna be angry at the world from a crippling disposition.

Just tell me what you need from me.

And I smash my head in private against the wall. Denial thrives in hostile climates.

Flat-out lies climb chaos spires as Rapunzel lets down your tires.

I start fights in my own head, cop doggy bags stuffed full of tappers.

I take 'em home to feed the rug rats and then set fire to your maracas.

Redeemer, you had your fun. Now you're clinging to your rosaries like a nun.

Redeemer, you stole the sun. Now you're orbiting the bullshit of all damage done.

Blind by his truth, blind by his truth.

Fucking in the desert's dusky hue, I give to you this final gift.

Lift you up like elephants sniffing peanuts in all the shops can't shift. And sifting through the shells, I lick my dust-dry, rusty lips.

Before taking one last whiff in the pips of anywhere other than this. Call Herr

Schmidt and ask him, "Herr Schmidt, is this what we aim for?

'Cause you usually have a word up your sleeve for feelings that we have no name for. " Redeemer.

Watch video Yard Act - Redeemer

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