1. |
Head
04:07
|
|
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Head sky
in the shape of the day.
Pressed in white
at its drifting in place.
Stuttered, spied,
reinvestigate
where your eyes
disconnect from your face,
But could you shoulder the weight of my name?
It's hard enough for me to do the same.
So could you just stay?
But could you shoulder the weight of my name?
It's hard enough for me to do the same.
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2. |
Named Light
03:14
|
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Hold my hand sign,
let it dry.
Bark taste, long drives
intertwine.
Bedsheets ask why
and we just sigh.
Washed my bed-sty
late last night.
Let go, grip tight
for all time.
I will say goodnight,
and I will not pretend to know what's right.
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3. |
Washer
02:16
|
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Washed hands,
take mine.
Wonder where they've been and why
skin dried,
left scars for lines.
Tied hands.
mouth wide.
Tuck your skin inside of mine.
Just try
to land between your shame and spine.
It's alright.
We both died
a hundred times,
and the skin that reproduced stayed white
and wouldn't hide,
so we cover and try to try,
and I turn to you and ask you why,
and you say "It used to hurt but now I'm fine.
I think I'm fine."
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4. |
|
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Weekday,
watching video games.
Lazing
limply in your space
that I invade.
Waking
in and out of daydreams.
Passing
time around your face.
The time is ours to waste.
And I wrote this song for a girl,
and I'll leave this couch at the end of the world.
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Dad Culture Records Potsdam, New York
~ DIY record label out of Potsdam, NY~
(photo credit to Devyn Halter & Liam Kingsley)
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