LIVE GALLERY: Slow Crush, SOM & Blanket at the Bodega, Nottingham
Stare at the sun, forget everyone.
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Stare at the sun, forget everyone.
Behold a time in which the hand of Karma guides the wheel.
My shoulder blades are tectonic plates, swimming away from my spine unbraced.
Made by musicians, for musicians.
“Can you feel that soil covering your coffin?”
It feels so good but I know it’s poison.
Even through the darkest days, this fire burns, always
Scratch so deeply, time won’t heal it.
I wanna burn through the atmosphere, soar like a meteor tonight.