I heard you're living in a house
in the town i grew up in
I'll bet it's red brick, and terraced, with single pane glass
just a couple questions i've still got to ask:
do the floorboards creak with the weight of your secrets?
the windows shake with the strength of that storm you've been
keeping to yourself?
oh these are the last words you'll ever hear from me
do you still catch my voice on a springtime breeze
or have to shake off thoughts of me
from some late summer evenings humid
oh these are the last words you'll ever hear from me
do you still catch my voice on a springtime breeze
or have to shake off thoughts of me
from some late summer evenings humid reverie?
i'm leaving this to you now.
where's your sense of adventure?
i'm still ecstatic, enchanted by anything
you said you've lost all your wonder
anticipation could still be sharp on your skin
let's get drenched, let's get dazzled in delicate light
which in our summer might shift, but will never surrender
to the night
and in our mornings, the dew drops will sparkle like stars
and the air will be scented with salt and wildflowers
we'll rise higher in the sky
and i'd finally find home, and i'd finally find quiet
it was a heaven sent summer time
luminescent, those august nights
the exquisite twisting of memory
my head's still hazy with the thought of you and me
it was a heaven sent summer time
luminescent, we'd twist in the august light
and for an instant i swore that i
caught a glimpse of something calmly divine
still rugged and raw
and as fragile as it was before
this sun will not set
it goes without rest
First released 10 years ago, this psych-electronic album has lost none of its charm and inventiveness, serving up dizzying song structures. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 29, 2020