Blind men patronize,
I hear their hair on fire
Burning, lying chair
Take your shit empire
Birdie:
There is something to be said for a man who isn't dead
But there's evil in his head
and Mother's car is repossessed
and I'm stagnant like the wires,
I have slept a thousand times
on the bones of a cold bed.
There's no holiness,
only empty, cavernous dread.
There is evil in my head.
Rats and rats on fire,
laughing in the mire.
Burning funeral pyre,
take your shit empire.
My country tis of thee,
sweet land of blood money.
This creative San Francisco guitar band melds trip hop, krautrock, My Bloody Valentine-esque noise, and jangle pop hooks. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 19, 2024