These men I travel with:
we smell of sour milk and cigarettes
And the stench we wear on our sleeves;
A waltz to dischordant minuets
“Will my destruction ever cease?”
you scream from within your tomb
of opaque vapours in your phone;
inhaled and exhaled by a womb
Seize your last message
and hold tight, hold on to those bullets;
your little lead soldiers;
little bricks in your homestead;
shot for shot they’ll fall
They will fall
They will fall
[Your delicate researches
Your presence of mind
Twice held, never caught]
A leaping vibration; bounce on by
The baying hoards;
a silver backed bream,
running to your net
Locked: still and confined
Clap the timelessness
The mechanics couldn’t split your mind; perhaps your teeth
Seize your last message
and hold tight, hold on to those bullets;
your little lead soldiers;
little bricks in your homestead;
shot for shot they’ll fall
They will fall
They will fall
[Your delicate researches
Your presence of mind
Twice held, never caught]
The London musician recorded the dreamy psychedelic pop songs on his third album in churches, bedrooms and kitchens. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 15, 2023
If you have a fondness for expertly wrought roots-rock with sharp lyrics and aching vocals, look no further—“Strangers” is for you. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 8, 2022