Dressed up spilled out never even wondered why
Breaths are stale from the stone washed away through the cold
Nothing good will come from gold
Losing sleep tragedy clothed in what ghosts should wear
The burden of the women who felt that they could see spirits
Epithets produced by the red man who sought the frosted hills
He is me.
I've never seen a picture
But still the image haunts me
The times I've wished to strangle him.
Fear me darling I'm not who you see
Fear me constantly darling I'm not who you see even on the inside.
Why can't you hear me?
Why can't you bear me?
Listen to me, I'm broken and torn.
In time you'll see
I hope you'll see
I pray that you might see
I'm so detached, but I feel so close
I'm lying away from you
I'm lying toward me
Nothing's happened but it will send for all my sins
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The fingerprints of classic UK psych-folk are all over the beautiful “Battle of the Grumbles,” a work of rich texture & detail. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 4, 2018