IN CONVERSATION: Rory Rodriguez of Dayseeker and Hurtwave
My paper heart will fold.
My paper heart will fold.
I can’t speak, it’s all phonetic.
You can sing while my spirit starves.
Sometimes I hate myself.
Released myself from the shackles I helped create.
This is no hell; this is home.
We’ll carry the torches for those who have died.
What’s a life worth living when the future is filled with dread?
Tongue tied in distress, buried in your favourite dress.