well they told me the world would end in december
thats a load of shit i said, how can anyone believe that mess
then i rode my bike home to my love, as fast as i could
just in case the news was true
mother has had enough of our abuse
finally
in fear of falling skies
we became searchlights
guiding lost truths to our shores
we built symphonies of glass words
and trusted them in each others shaking hands
when her body gave up, we put my first friend down
burned the fur and flesh away
grow young with the country old friend
i kept her print in plaster like a headstone
where we died every night.
but i was west when she bathed in flame
the seeds we never tucked
now sleep in my thoat
sprouting trees, choking me when she howls through my bones
we'll be dying for the rest of our lives
and well sift the ashes, to recover what survives
we'll be dying for the rest of our lives
and we'll sift the ashes, something always survives
i played my first solo show with these folks in providence. snail party's a folk flailing orchestral punk band from halifax, really really good ovis rot gut
This sweet, mournful “loose concept” album from folk artist Ian McCuen tracks a journey across the bleak landscape of American life. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 22, 2022
A collection of twinkling bedroom folk-pop demos from Fahim Rahman that arcs from hushed intimacy to sweeping cinematic emotionality. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 6, 2021