my hand sagged alone as i left behind her
i sandbagged her throne just to drill the writer
if the ice doesn't melt inside the rink
there's still the water in the sink
distill the water with the ink
staring at the wall as she rose behind the
married in the fall and my eyes are burning
if you thought that she never would believe
that she's ever gonna leave
but she's not coming
An earthy yet somewhat chilly record about life, death, and reconnection, the latest from LOMA experiments with a turn towards the gloomy. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 16, 2024