to hear the mountaintop men of a particular hue
vomit their voices down from places pillowy and assumed
and from within this to exist
a collection of consciousness
often my headroom's fraught with thoughts I thought of
brought up lonesome and impressionable
vulnerable and susceptible
to make believe
to make believe
and now my eyes see tattooed
those shallow whites and deep blues
and I know I could talk it out in rooms of confidence
my relics entombed by sunbathing moons
I'm make believe
I'm make believe
billowing black nebulas rise from ashen hills of classics
a dead stop, redirecting from old avenues of care
Sparkling synthpop with an emphasis on high-wattage chords and the kind of melodies that burrow themselves deep in the brain. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 1, 2023