Her closet was a sequence of satins and sequins, arranged into a row like words of a sentence. She dresses like promiscuous but really is obsessed with learning the language of her heart inside her chest. Working nonstop, got two mouths to feed. She never includes herself in that sum, so it brings it up to three. There's holes in the hammock between the twin trees, refusing to rock, sympathetic to the breeze.
She's got astrology and psychology to explain why he was mean. She's fine when she's alone, she just cries when she's seen. Nostalgic for a childhood that she cannot remember - except the boys of summer and the toys of December. She dies every night, reborn in the morning. Demons run away if you give them fare warning. When sirens come close, criminals hide out in her skin, in the ribcage palace of the never born children.
She asks me what things that I'd like to see. i like what pleases me and doesn't bother me.
I see omens in the ovals on each side of her nose, underneath the eyelids which only pretend to close as she sleeps alone in her candle and rose, like a temporary funeral for her night of calm repose. I see omens in the ovals on each side of her nose. She dreams of coming home all the way on her tiptoes. She's got friends and family waiting to meet the man she chose , but the night before the wedding, he always runs away from home.
Contrary to the title, this debut LP from Melbourne producer Megadead leans heavily on instrumental hip-hop fusion and plunderphonics. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 8, 2021
Canadian troubadour Konner Whitney expands his creative horizons with a vulnerable-yet-venomous record blending rock and folk. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 10, 2021