The color of snow
You love in categories,
think in stereotypes,
feel in rare exceptions,
wander deaf through your life.
Give almost nothing,
take as much as you can,
feed on hope and forgiveness,
Care a shit at the end.
You're all just tourists,
in our country of life,
leaving nothing but garbage,
in the landscapes of our minds.
Sow the seed of destruction,
on the fields of our hearts,
burn the woods of our souls,
with fire set by disregard.
No one remains, nothing persists,
we will all wander as ghosts in the mist,
on the shatters of our hearts,
through the relicts of our woods,
with our heads down in shame,
and our hands - red from your blood.
The most slept-on band in indie music makes a welcome return with another A+ record mixing hardcore and slacker rock with jokes. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 13, 2023