Mama, I've been crying in my bed,
seeking a sign, trying to align with a world that will bind everyone, and I've found none, I am wretched, crawling in the sun; free in a maze.
Dreaming of days when I was dreaming of days yet to come.
This must be vertigo.
Sometimes it’s better to drown than to sink, I'm hazy, I'm in hell.
But when I'm swimming in drink I'm happy, like a baby.
From all things that tether me, please lord deliver me, but until then upon this I depend; I would rather not think "Lord, save me".
Closer comes the sound of ringing bells, held by the grim specters of men who would take every baby now grown.
Hold on, brother, hold on to the souvenirs of yore; blue Saturday, pink lemonade and the screech of cicadas at night.
This must be vertigo.
It’s funny how the world around just shrinks in disillusion ‘til you’re down in an old town, drunk every night, plucky in plight, and just trying to make it alive while wishing for death when the train comes and morning is gone.
The former frontman of the Pains of Being Pure at Heart lets loose with a passionate, Dylan-esque record full of razor-sharp lyricism. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 2, 2021
The new EP from the aptly named regal murk is a striking piece of work, thick rivers of guitar swallowing tender vocal melodies. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 24, 2022