You get me like spilled milk sour in my eyes
a televangelist's wife, smeared mascara when she cries
You get me with my arms up praising on the floor
Communion with the dead from my tongue to your core
All traditions blended, all permission is yours
Rolling vision skyward, my mortal ribs are sore
Rip my hips of purity, the halos in my eyes
are illusions dragged and dirty, dust circles in the light
you get me pale as petals like you lay me in the ground
funeral flowers dripping white where they're found
getting dirt above my heart to keep me around
forgiveness at the hitch in your breath as a holy sound
Red eyes like the tips of incense, no confession gets us out of this
the cemetery gate inherent in my escaping bliss
you get me showing all the mercy I've ever allowed
But oh my god, I'm so godless and hopeless who could bless us now?
see you through a cloudy prism, posed like a stoned angel in the window of your prison
fuck me over and tear away at me, knotting up all the threads of destiny
fuck me like you've never loved a freak before, we can all sort it out at heaven's door
How can I have a heartache dressing candles for our fate?
Carving names when apart cuz' my savior makes me wait
Cuz' my healer makes me bleed at the edge of their affection
One more serpent held down in their collection
Introspective pop songs with transcendent melodies offer a joyful meditation on staying present in a world that often moves too fast. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 16, 2023