Young people staring at the phone. I'm busy frying bigger fish. It's the first day this year to walk with coat unzipped. I'm not unhappy, but I'm uncertain. Spread out the map, clear off the bottles and the cards. They'll strip the soil and repeat, that's what they'll do to you! Mark the territory gained by the sand.
It hasn't rained in a year, and when it did it was claimed. I'm sitting here, I'm getting a picture of modern wealth. I want the company I keep to keep on asking questions. This voice might face a family that doesn't yet exist- just an idea, and just an end, up there with birth and death and a trusting cliff-drop throat lump. Irreversible threshold, creativity and responsibility, tickles and screams, and somehow it goes:
Keep forgetting, somehow forgetting. Torrential dryspell, to keep on choking on exhaust. And here they pay me to stand by and plug the leak, and we're all standing still with our fingers in the dam. Do you want coffee? I think I need another cup, because I'm too tense to rest at night.
All life wants to do is live, and it appears to your advantage when you can corral it into being sold, whether that's a family, or if that's veggies from a field- graduate to sand, and repeat like there's no tomorrow; and charge too much at the door! Keep forgetting, somehow forgetting. Torrential dryspell.
I had to leave the party, everyone was staring at the phone. I want the company I keep to keep on asking questions, but they keep forgetting, somehow forgetting. Torrential dryspell.
I'll sit here nicely, and I'll lay awake, wondering how to spend a few useful decades.
Dead Cross, Retox, and Qui members dish out subversive hardcore with an indignant smirk; come for the riffs, stay for the synth experiments. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 31, 2024