I wonder if that hole in the screen's still there,
that I use to sneak out of at night to stare,
at the stars and the moon from my treetop view.
Wondering if you were wondering,
"where are you?"
Hospice blues.
Your last views.
Family in the pews.
As I'm cutting through my skin into blue,
purple to red, I wish that you weren't dead.
I've seen this coming for years; I don't know how you felt okay.
Killing you.
Psychotic blues.
What is true?
Trust a few.
Two Italian underground bands join forces: one a scummy, blown-out garage mess with a noise-rock razor in its pocket, one pure alienation. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 10, 2016