A brain is never plural until it's forced from its bed
The drains have overflowed again
Break bread with our enemies
Poison the air that we breathe
The hands on the clock are pressing on aimlessly
But that makes no difference to me
No time, no age
No earth, no space
It's all been erased
...................................
As the tide is subsiding
Communication is dying
Seek the real care merchant
Bleeding in the margins
Of the low baptismal glow
The Long Island metal band's third album etches arena-sized hooks into their jagged compositions, deftly balancing experimental and poppy inclinations. Bandcamp Album of the Day May 12, 2022
very clever indeed.
Who would have thought of something as groovy as this?
Truly a wonder of nature it is.
Steinsopp, bring it on please.
Yes, right here is, where it is. dumm:kopfinn