South America

by The Anatomy of Frank

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abigailgenene This album is incredibly heartwarming and enjoyable. I can't wait to hear more from The Anatomy of Frank. My friends and I listened to the album while hanging out and it couldn't have been more enjoyable. Thank you for sharing your music with us! Favorite track: Ecuador (A New Year).
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jfiddy Thanks for the secret note on UVA campus!
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Includes a fold out poster and lyrics sheet and features cover art by Ecuador's own Viteri.

    Includes unlimited streaming of South America via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    First ever Anatomy of Frank Vinyl run (!!!) with Poster and Lyrics. Features album cover art by Ecuador's own Viteri.

    Includes unlimited streaming of South America via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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The second installment in the Anatomy of Frank's continents project, this album was recorded entirely in South America (Puembo, Ecuador, to be exact). We are proud to present it to you, along with our unabashed gratitude to our friends who are a part of it and all those who have helped along the way.


released September 1, 2017

Recorded by Stephen Cope in Puembo, Ecuador January-March 2017
Mastered by Alan Douches
Special thanks to David and his family.
Cover Art by Viteri


all rights reserved



The Anatomy of Frank Charlottesville, Virginia

The Anatomy of Frank will record an album on every continent on earth. Europe is next. "The Anatomy of Frank blend the complexity of post-rock with the immediate likability of pop-rock to create music that will get stuck in your head without ever driving you crazy." - Pretty Much Amazing ... more

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Track Name: Ecuador (A New Year)
airport and industry
mangos and effigies
a son and a daughter
we swallow tap water, we’re fine

in the morning I wake by myself and read her letters

the fishermen sleeping
I’m quietly creeping
and reading the sides of the boats that they named for their kids

we tear off our shirts in the moon, but we still fear the ocean

why are we stuttering?
no one is muttering dissatisfaction
into our ears anymore

we lost track of our shoes
and we danced until two
each one of us knowing
the danger of showing

our skin to our parents, and drowning our fears
in a symphonic ocean, our faces in our beers
a sudden arrival, a face full of tears
we ran to the ocean, it’s how we bring in the New Year
Track Name: The Girl from Ipanema
the favela looks like an avalanche happened
crumbled and come to rest down the mountain
it’s a perfect view with some morning mist
or for a photo to show my friends I’m an activist
maybe I am, maybe

the girl from Ipanema goes walking
she holds her phone away from her ear when she’s talking
and she sees me, and assumes that I
want to give it to her just like every other guy
maybe I do, maybe

I’d tell you every hateful word I ever said
and the trashy southern kid I left for dead
is still scared to death by all the books he never read

and my nighttime infidelities are rooted in some pornographic
image as a kid, that made me think, “hey, I should date a Catholic”
the part of me that always wants to be alone
is buried by the parts that don’t

the fathers are selling trash to the tourists
the mothers are raising such feminist purists
oh Mercadante, you’ve left the job undone
cause as it turns out, girls don’t just want to have fun
maybe you know, maybe

I grew up in the only state that’s named after virginity
and god, what does that do to kids, and god, what did it do to me?
and Jesus watches over you from atop the Corcovado
but his words have grown into a clichéd, boring ostinato
good for stadiums
and presidents
for blessing all
while you’re hurting them

this city’s painting all the roses red
making sure the air is full of lead
there’ll be more of them after they’re all dead, won’t there?

and if destruction be our lot, then we must do it to ourselves
for we’ll die on our own terms and not the terms of someone else
the part of me that always wants a happy home
is buried by the parts that don’t
Track Name: La Llorona
we boarded a bus to Santiago, taking turns at breathing air
that blew through the window, hot and dusty, making urns out of our hair
I’ve been wrung out into a bucket, I guess there wasn’t much there
you drank every drop, and I must admit, I loved the way you held my stare

I want to be used up and forgotten like those pretty girls at school
who gave with their bodies what their intellect could not provide for you
oh, you are hungry for the next thrill someone will challenge you to
and if it isn’t there, the dragon will lead you to the next clue

I’ll follow you down the rabbit hole
there’s room for two
my oxygen is running low
and the autumn’s coming soon
pull me out, pull me out
I need to move
you’ll be happier down here
and I’ll be far from you

you know what I like, don’t make me beg, come at me, bite me, choke me out
I’m hanging on your every word from the rafters by a belt
oh what was that I saw you whisper into that nice woman’s ear
I’ll pass the summer in Colina, until I finally disappear

pull me out, pull me out
push me around, no no
Track Name: How Do We Lose It
I dug a soldier out of an armrest
disfigured by a teething child
I buried him where I found him
I buried him where I found him

you had let me take the front seat
as we hurtled through Amazon air
we swam upstream to the mountains
we swam upstream to the mountains

the treetops keep raining on us, even
when the sky is done
I played guitar while you slept in
I played guitar while you slept in

as I get older, I am tempted to shut down
and not say anything at all
you grabbed my hand as I jumped off

write it down and throw it in the attic
how do we lose it? I guess it’s automatic
I am scared of age, but I’ll want you forever
and that won’t change, even when this turns to desert

this is how we lose it
this is how we lose it when we’re old

I’m happy to wake up
I’m happy to wake up with you
Track Name: Patagonia
our mothers are crying in the attic at our cribs lined with rust
and the smell of a childhood that’s hiding in the books and the dust
navigating oil slicks on the driveway
read the headlines, pick up the news

her marriage is an ornament that’s hanging on the front of the door
his pants sit higher and his legs don’t grow much hair anymore
we are recycling their story
bringing disappointment in twos

cause I’m not worth it, and you’re not worth it, and we’re not worth it
and sometime, someday, I may be perfect, but I can’t be for you

and if our children called the fields of Patagonia home
and drank their milk from a dairy farm just up the road
could they know innocence forever
in the sense that innocence goes to prove

that we both could have been so different
if even half a fuck had been given

do you remember the last time your father came and slept on our couch
he had a demon in his cough, said Buenos Aires had rusted him out

you laughed and kissed him on the forehead
and dropped the phone when you got the news
Track Name: The Landing of the Plus Ultra Flying Boat
our world is made of what we hear on the news
and the fear we feel when we leave our homes
we hang our hearts up on our bedroom walls
for fear of caging them inside our bones

we shielded our eyes when the Flying Boat
appeared over Montevideo’s shore
and brought with it the wonders that we carried in our bloodstreams
and made us dream like we hadn’t before

but you are the one who makes it all come true
you are the one who makes it all come true

I disappear into the blue every month or two
I’m sure I’d never be heard from again
retracing flight paths across the lonely ocean
without a welcome, without a friend

cause I don’t know how to inspire people
I don’t know where to go anymore

you are the one I’m coming home to
you are the one I’m coming home to
Track Name: Holy Mountain
oh my friend, I guess I knew you well
though after all the silence, I found it hard to tell
with all the hours in the van
in every corner of the land

holy mountain, you made us speak in tongues
your valleys flow with bloodshed, scaring everyone
and your shadow blocks the sun
everywhere we try to run

did I make you feel abused?
did I make you feel tired?
after all the changes I imposed
it’d be worse than death
to hear the tempo of your breath
and the machines that moved your chest up and down
up and down

lonely mountain, to help you greet the end
cause the cure tempts with numbness just around the bend
and all that’s left of you, in time
would be a drive safely sign
and wrinkled eyes

and my friend, I am lucky to have known you
and it’s not the perfect love that I have shown you
but nobody could have ever known to warn you
Track Name: To Keep Our Hands From Shaking
our parents’ house isn’t quite the wonder
it used to be when we were younger
always happy to bring our girlfriends home

the driveway next to the flowered vine
whose fingers grabbed onto the power lines
the green they thought would save them made them old

the kitchen shiny with copper kettles
that warm with the glow of the sun that settles
above the sink, giving auras to our hairs

white walls still tremble with faint vibrations
of whispered crying and accusations
our quiet breath, as we listened from the stairs

to keep our hands from shaking when they sat us down on the floor

we climbed the moonlit hills (climbed the moonlit hills)
from our windowsills (from our windowsills)
watched him smoke down on the porch (watched him on the porch)
dreaming of divorce (did we hurt him more)
more things to forget

the clouds drag their stomachs across the mountain
we pick flakes of rust off the garden fountain
and drink for the reasons they warned us of in school

cause there’s nothing so terrible to withstand
as the anger of a gentle man
he hits the table and kicks away his stool

to keep the hacienda alive for another year

we climbed the moonlit hills (climbed the moonlit hills)
from our windowsills (from our windowsills)
watched him down below (watched him down below)
will he ever know (that we loved him so)
so much to forget
Track Name: The Sunken Coast
are you still attractive? it’s been longer than it seems
my day’s still mostly ruined when you choose to haunt my dreams
when I see your picture, my face starts to burn
cause I imagine I’d still have you if only I’d waited my turn

but I forced it and of course, ignored all of your warning calls
that I’d have a better chance when age had ironed out our flaws
but I’m still underwater, craving air from your lungs

I’m still underwater
I’m still underwater

we were young, and I was hungry for that burning heat
to wonder how such a girl could ever yearn for me
so drag me to the bottom, tie me to the sunken coast
I can hold my breath, just promise you’ll undo the ropes

and when you swam away, I heard that you were doing fine
but I stayed down there forever, it seemed, before I realized
sometimes I think I’ll tie the knots again in case you change your mind

I’m still underwater
I’m still underwater
Track Name: Andes
when I was eight or nine
I would wake at night to see an old woman in my backyard through the blinds
shaking in my bed, my eyes out the window
never saw her face, just a hat and a red coat

on that night, with the moon
you could see the woods around the yard, the door into my parents’ room
I knew if I screamed, she’d turn around and spot me
so I cried alone, allowing her to haunt me

I was scared and I’m still scared of what I can’t undo
we put ourselves through hell and come out battered and bruised
and put the touches on our makeup, wake up anew

as my fourth decade comes around
how quickly we are broken, beaten, choked, bury our heads in the ground
shaking on a plane, the mountains all around me
wondering if my need to run will ever ground me
I know you had a lot to say that you couldn’t
you could let it shape your fears, but you shouldn’t
Track Name: Viteri
our mother drove home late at night
slowly following the lights
green and red and blinking bright
her boat hit a sandbar and stopped on a dime

my little brother was thrown off the boat
got his wind knocked out, but nothing broke
our mother hit the wheel with her throat
it damaged her voice and she couldn't sing a tone
and I would give anything to go back and guide her home
that foggy night with the lake dark and cold
she cried at the table but couldn't be consoled
at the image of her son disappearing into the dark

our dad was too young to be left alone
his mother went quiet on the phone
and turned as white as ocean foam
they got in the Chevy and didn't speak a word

his older brother was on the second floor
in a hospital bed in his summer shorts
my father watched him from the door
they waited for him in the hallway outside
thinking they'd give anything to have given him a ride
he'd been with three other teenagers, none of whom survived
he called out for my dad to come to his bedside
and my dad hurried, but he didn't get there in time

somehow, through the ache of love that lost its receiving end
his parents moved his brother's clothes to the attic in a bin
and they honored him at meals and holidays
his parents had less to say to each other

your grandpa's a celebrity
well past his seventies
he's the artist I will never be
he's commissioned for paintings by presidents and kings

he pulled a quarter from his shirt pocket
showed me the dent and the hole in it
he'd been out painting by the shed
when a fit of frustration and inspiration came
he pulled out his rifle and took a steady aim
fired into the canvas and a bullet ricocheted
hit him in the heart and he fell in a daze
he reached for the wound and found 25¢ in change

somehow, through the ache of love that's lost its youthful shine
we danced to his phonograph and laughed until we cried
and mom, you can still sing with me, I'd love it so
and dad, I promise not to leave before you go
and Viteri, you still bring us all such joy
and we'll remember you as an eighty year-old boy

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