pasted displacement on fireplaces
scenes singed and shapeless
old tired and tasteless
hometowns are ghost-towns
my tomb's a pitcher's mound
just watch the battered cans
collect like rubber bands
they teethe on veiny hands
drooling for ativin
how many did we cram?
we ate 'em all like piggy banks
i hacked blood and slowly sank
into the tar where Heaven's trapped
i'm going nowhere in this one horse town
burn it down
shed the skin you put me in
i picked blue flowers
it took me hours
i turned my pockets
i turned them outwards
to show you justin
it's that i must've
kept my mouth shut
it's left me threadbare
Self-described "power goth" band from Colorado goes maximalist with a strident album inspired by ’90s pop punk, emo, and alternative. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 30, 2023