You’ll see colors
You’ll see yellows and greens
The aperture closes, but you will not take it with grace.
The blackness will snap you with its mouth.
I’m no longer afraid of the light in my face.
of the light in my face.
I spent years trying to remember what it said about kindness.
You’ll spend hours
Punching air in a roomful of ghosts.
The door slams closed.
The door slams closed.
But you will not take it with clenched teeth.
You’ll wake up, roll over with ten deep breaths.
You’ll leave it in the bed with your lover.
You’ll have to hang it over him.
And your lungs,
They’ll be crushed,
Under the weight of all the water, rushing down, on your tongue,
As you’re trying to remember
all those faces,
all those friends
who held your hand,
who held your hand
All those warm dry moments
you have spent,
you have spent.
And you’ll watch as the sun slides down across a pond, somewhere,
Alone in your heart with the world’s sound
raining down on you.
The new Field Medic LP is the indie rock project's most vulnerable, using sharp humor to make self-reflection emotionally resonant. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 18, 2022
A vibrant vision of "Central Americana" from the Costa Rica-based artist, blending heartland devotionals with playful Tropicália grooves. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 27, 2022
The freak-folk collective's debut is full of rich, haunted vocals and experimental melodies derived from more traditional idioms Bandcamp Album of the Day Nov 9, 2021
Hypnotic night music on the latest from Assorted Orchids, with spiraling acoustic guitars and drifting, beatific vocals. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 4, 2021