The uniform grimace makes it hard to distinct,
between husbands and fathers in our precinct.
They bend and shake in the wind like the tail of a kite.
Ya, it's a far away land in the mouths of reports.
Apathetic "I'm sorry"s "We always follow orders".
I heard they found a body on 12 last night.
And will they ask me if I done my best.
God's great mercy, haven't felt it yet.
Slither through the pews to find a right.
To ask the Deacon what's yours and what's mine.
I guess that's what you get, for the price of privilege.
You get a filled green bag, and a note from the village,
saying "I guess things weren't as good as we thought."
Now there's a hazed out sun, the sound of tearing dirt.
Nobody gets redemption, nobody gets hurt.
And Lou Reed's "Pale Blue Eyes" fills us all.
And will they ask me if I done my best.
God's great mercy, haven't felt it yet.
Slither through the pews to find a right.
To ask the Deacon what's yours and what's mine.
Recorded on the Grecian isle of Hydra, this is blissed-out psych pop with stacked falsetto harmonies and luscious arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 9, 2023
Two dozen 12-string acoustic improvisations that feel undeniably haunting, like lost transmissions from ancient Appalachia, rediscovered. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 17, 2022