A House​/​/​A Home

by Wolf Teeth

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A House//A Home is our debut release, documenting both our first 6 months as a collective, and our attempt at coming to terms with our pasts. It is a personal and unpolished look at 4 friends trying to self-medicate, and a preview of what's to come.


released May 26, 2015

Drums-Mikey Thompson
Guitars-Nick Davies
Bass-Ricky Whittle
Vocals-Eddy Marflak

Recorded and mixed at Bad Racket by Henri K. W. Rapp
Mastered at Audiosiege by Brad Boatright.

Released on limited cassette by Ronald Records and Tightwolf Records(/50)



all rights reserved


Wolf Teeth Elyria, Ohio

Wolf teeth are vestigial teeth in horses; Wolf Teeth is a band.

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Track Name: It Started with a Whisper...
It started with a whisper in the distance, resembling wind but doleful
I could not make out the sound, but I knew that it drew nearer with each passing breath
an unfleeting sigh, I knew when I looked into her eyes.
She was trembling at the very sight of me, choking on my tongue in anger
I could not chew off my words quick enough to stop the tears from falling at her feet

“For every flower that grows, reap from root what you’ve sown
burn the fields son, and don’t look back!”
I bare my father’s blood, cut from mother’s cloth, dripping enmities from wounds earned in my past.

I know I scare you, I’m a scary man, but I am so tired of being angry and self loathing
of hurting everyone I love, these fists fight ghosts they’ll never fucking touch, but my heart, it feels each blow.

I want you to know, though I’m trying the best that I can, you should find someone else to hold your hand. I’ve failed lovers time and again; I don’t deserve this love, I always fuck this up!
So I’m keeping my fingers crossed, in hopes we both don’t just end up lost, and if you should decide to let go, I think that I would understand.
I don’t deserve this love, I always fuck this up!
Track Name: Hidden Beneath the Floorboards of a House
There’s a saying; you can sew the skin on a skeleton, but you can’t bring it back to life.
No you can’t, and you can’t beat it out of yourself, and bleeding isn’t going to make you feel any better, even if it seems like it could. See, I want to believe that someone’s going to save me from myself, but I ain’t never seen a ghost! And at least this pain is real, at least this pain can make me feel! The way a bible never could; scribbled down lies on chopped up fucking wood! It’s not fair, these tragedies of mine! Hidden beneath the floorboards of a house, but not a home.
Track Name: Wooden Spoons
See I was born with a wooden spoon in my mouth, and it left splinters in my grin, and tints of red in my spit. I was born to an alcoholic adolescent couple of star-crossed lovers, falling to their deaths. Fall birds fall! You had it all, you traded family for the bottle.

I used to run into the arms of a man I’ll never see again, I used to think my mother could just kiss the pain away, my brother tried to hang himself before he was even born, I think he was onto something.

How could we, but three small birds, build a nest from these fallen dreams?
How could we build a nest, our beaks brimming with red?
Mom and dad, we’re all you had, no drink nor pill could change that.
Track Name: Could Have Been
Bukowski had a bluebird, well inside I have a crow
For all intents and purposes, I think I’ll let him show
I am a sonofabitch, I am a fucking prick
I am selfish, conceited and cold
I am the devil’s kin, I’m bound by serpent’s skin
I am vile, and worthless I’ve been told

But I was a child once, before that bastard’s touch
Before the drugs, and the lies, and deaths in my family
Before divorce, and that fourth of July
Before corners, and boards, and hands on my throat
Before a girl finished off what that bastard started
And instead of goodbye, we both said dearly departed

I was a child once, I could have been…
I could have been someone
Track Name: Mother & The Gun
I dare not hold my breath, or keep my fingers crossed, there is no hope in this house.
Banging down the door, he comes to claim my words.
This is the man she claims to love, but she sleeps all day, what kind of love is that?

Mother pull the shotgun out of your mouth, I know it’s hard to live with three ungrateful kids, you told us.

This is the man she claims to love, but she sleeps all fucking day, and she swears things would get better if we’d shut our fucking mouths. She says she loves us, that it’s her burden to bare, she loves us but we should shut our fucking mouths. But will things ever get better?

I hope they do, I’m so fucking sick and tired of watching her cry herself to sleep at night.