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lyrics

I don't remember growing old, so slow, enclosed, alone. The Days peeled back like lips from a sick greased grin. because it lived it's entire life in tragedy and it still stands straighter then me. The sun sets sooner every day a little bit dimmer,just like me. the smarter I get the dumber I feel because there is just so much to know. the truth is: I've never slept straight through the night. I've been waking to the rhythmic breathing of my room. paint me into a corner, I'll leave foot prints on the floor because I am to common sense what falling is to sky. trace every sunken face my room seems to have. I have regulars, I know them all by name. time wasted lying down, pen and paper lost in night.... Forced by the hordes we're running for the gates."death to the man caught wiping clean the slate." forced by gravity,sprinting for that failing light.forced by our unconscious willingness to escape.

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from All Other Voices, released February 7, 2013

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Witch of the Waste Vancouver, British Columbia

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