Watch the dishes build in the sink. To the tune of tension too much to think. Dust settles on shelves of wood antique. When it don’t look good, with any & every reason to drink. I bet on any horse named, “Last Fucking Chance“. I knew the risk and that’s the artist in me, I guess. If lovers remain undiscovered, does love exist? Only from lack there of or by the emptiness? Teenage romance in mid-twenties is childish & silly. So I’m singing like a dog in heat, with no action in the back alley. A deaf drunk swinging in the memory of a beat. With every story there is an epiphany. These muscles collapse, this heart is concave. The sound of silence is something to be brave. I’m alright on the kitchen floor. It’s cold, it’s comfort & dismal & grey. The last cowboy from yesterday. No river or ritual to bless me baptismal. These sins are stains for a reason. I’m lost & it’s the only thing I intend to stay. No wretch like me actually wants to be saved. I’m better off in this familiar sway. The last cowboy from yesterday. Will someone do the dishes and take out the trash? It might kill me if my demands are met suddenly. Living in the filth of humanity is tiring. But as the saying goes about cleanliness and being holy. We’re common folk and peasants performing. Serving with fear & trembling. I find your whispers deafening. And the salvation of lovers remain undiscovered.
A slow drip of Tropicália-infused psychedelia from New Orleans rock outfit Blue Basin: balmy one moment, aggressive the next. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 22, 2022
The third studio album from self-proclaimed "prunge" artist Kevin Nichols; delves into the perils of depression and anxiety. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 6, 2018