I’ll wake one morning with eyes of ash,
I’ll wake one morning with dirt in hand.
I’ll lose myself in comfort’s relief,
I’ll wake one morning, but not from sleep.
Under shrouds, I’m coming to see -
My searing thirst is a slow consuming.
Exiled in wilderness months -
If I found what I needed,
would it be enough -
Wildering.
Glide through the days
In a stream of silence.
Glide through the nights
In hidden violence.
Glide through the days,
Glide through the nights.
I’m stealing warmth from the sun.
I’m draining rivers of their love.
I’m razing futures in the dead of night,
Absorbing everything and nothing feels right.
Bluesy protopunk in the great Detroit tradition by the city's own the Stools, with dashes of the Stooges, Negative Approach, and the Gories. Bandcamp New & Notable May 25, 2023
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