Twig crowns on oblivion.
Like Paul, he was crazy too.
It’s the same, worn Foucauldian metaphors
when talking about how to talk to you.
I got sunburnt by the void.
I’m sending you postcards, I’m outside. I’m wanting to show you the dark; I want it to make sense as light.
Same notes since grade school.
Changing strings doesn’t change the song.
They’re teaching harmonies deep in the bunker,
but a new chord doesn’t make it not sound wrong.
I got sunburnt by the void.
This is your postcard, come outside.
How can I show you the dark?
How will it make sense as light?
Daily focus-training coupled with strong work ethics pointed toward making life more bearable for others, could turn around this age for the better. This album is beautiful. A force for good. CHOSEN