ghosts and satellites.

most beautifulest.

currently fermenting...

when we move away
from this murmured graze
you're a score of thieves
no blonde remains
behind the 'trolmans reach
and darling youre to blame

washing all the easels
watch
before we set them on fire
falsifying idols
stars
before we burnt out inside

washing all the easels

watch

before we set them on fire

set them on fire

set them on fire

set them on fire

of all this masonry
im a row of teeth
scalding creeks
and childish actresses
that linger from beneath
the quiver of your balm pressed lips

washing all the easels

watch

before we set them on fire

falsifying idols

stars

before we burnt out inside

washing all the easels

watch

before we set them on fire

set them on fire

set them on fire

set them on fire

in the meantime, revisit the elders...

drop

hapless hearts and measuring cups.

dictations and expectations

settlements and suggestions.

it all ends badly.

and you, YOURSELF, are only to blame.

we're so beautiful.

like beating a dead horse.

we're in the process of recording new material, but in the meantime, revisit, or perhaps discover the wonderful home-fi that is 'prague over brooklyn.'

there is a god.

and he's at the del mar fair.