This town is full of ghosts,
and the stories they tell.
It keeps them warm at night.
This living imitation.
We fail to break the lies of motion.
I want to burn everything.
It would redefine everything.
If I could sleep a solid eight,
it would mean everything.
I want to quit this two-bit sauce,
but sometimes ghosts refuse to fade.
The night birds are calling,
their sweet songs cut through the darkness.
Our scars are proof of living,
Weak hearts bleed out and die.
Like paths that overgrow,
but never disappear.
What life is this in the shambles?
Our stars aligned in our built-in apathy.
This rad world and all of us could be so better.
Abate the murderous walls,
ingrained in modern myths.
And you will see life in their eyes,
rooms for so much light.
about
Recorded by us March 15, 2014. Mixed & mastered by us casually between then and now.
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