1. |
Forever Untitled
02:28
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I wrote out a series of words that were beautiful but bared no semblence of sense
oh my God, there is no better metaphor than that
I was sitting on a bench in my backyard, thinking about how i regret this
but I see messages in dying stars, begging me to "forget this"
your voice cackled cruel in the distance
bastard that I was couldn't even conceal their bitterness
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2. |
Alvah Goldbook
03:22
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Your feelings anhedonic
poise a question pointed in the direction of survival
what a question
was that connection?
my wooden tongue
is too swollen to speak
they couldn't even hear what i had said
all lost in clouds above their heads
the play you could not see, only the background
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aging Moline, Illinois
Quad Cities noise pop or weirdo punk or whatever
Ian - Guitar/Vox
Elliot - Drums
Burge - Bass
Nik- Guitar
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