Here I come to tip the weight of the sun, I've got a million to none
I'll swing the door to the right
Reach inside the heavy crack in the floor
You can't excuse or ignore I'm leaving marks of delight
Scattered clothes among the leaves of the fall, the vacant thrill of it all
The ground is bored with desire
Heady times are in the youthful supply under the will to deny
I'm coughing out my good lines
And I really wanna roll this dice, I'm better known to go on running, wanting
And I really wanna curb this vice, I'm better known to go on lilting, dying
Don't wait, the time is dear to exercise the flames of guilty madness you calculate
Her escape too cavalier to appreciate the waves of inner sadness you contemplate
Negate the dreadful year that's divided by the days of empty action piled up to waste
Pray (that) the common fears will wash away the stain of dirty pleasure hung on your face
Here I come to scratch the paint off the walls, I'm vivid down through my draws
I'm leaping out through the vines
Gratifying is my only recourse and when I'm stripped from the source
I'm gripping down like new tires
Inebriated by the whip of despair, I'm seeing clear through the glare
I'll crash and burn through the night
Love advances like fatigue of a slave, I'll take it down to my grave and roll around
And I move very fine, exhausted by the fumes of a fragrant mind
And time will not suffice to eradicate the fumes of the playful high
Smooth, sophisticated pop with neoclassical flourishes from the Berlin-based duo of Fabian Till and Birk Buttcherey. Bandcamp New & Notable May 2, 2024
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The experimental rock band's new record is as melodic and inventive as ever, but now with an even more honed sense of play. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 27, 2024