We can take those two shots at my face
You can use my arm as your favorite place
For now
Go rest your head in Midwest beds
No phone alarm, no shaking head. Bored,
we slammed the door caught on the thread
My smile must be as black as father said
Tears washing my lungs of cigarettes
(At least for now)
The silent feat of preserving me again.
Why not let the memory of me
turn from copper to green?
A penny underneath your seat
Just oxidizing while you sleep or drive or make your own time
I couldn't save your day if I tried.
I suggest painting my chest with a snub-nose
I've always remembered you best with my eyes closed
Monet my chest
but don't lean in too close
Spot me on the walls, bloody freckles on your nose
In the car, slightly dozed
Shouldered head, your repose
In the river we rolled
Squeezing knuckles and squeaking soles
Drifting
In and out of consciousness.
"And what about lying? Am I feeling content
or forcing palms onto burning cement?
And what about you, are you feeling contempt?
Are you scraping your skin off of 7 years of slate just to crave a repaving and premature departure?"
This New Zealand group have a sweet glaze and an underlying toothiness that would have fit right in on mid-’90s alt-rock radio. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 1, 2019