We were crooked fingers playing violins. We were fat and ugly mannequins. We were heavy egos under thin skins. We were bloodless, just needles and pins. Your heart skipped a beat, but the earth did not tremble. Made ill by virtue, wounded by sin, the past is a lie I won’t tell again, selling our souls for a break in the weather with no business even being together. Judgement is painful, the truth is a curse. It may bring you bliss, but ignorance is worse, drawn to each other on concrete, in leather, with no business even being together. We were young drivers grinding gears. We were a little box full of petty fears. We were ungifted, myopic seers. We were careless, just wasting years. Let us drink now to what we have forgotten, what we’re still unaware of, what we must repeat.
from Renaissance Beast,
released November 2, 2014
BS - 12-string acoustic guitar, slide guitar, banjo, autoharp, basses, beat
Landon Strause - drums