Oh that sweet release of failure is gripping at my bones. It's underneath my skin, the calm is setting in. I collect regret like successful plaques on the wall, to remind myself of when... I... fall flat on my face. Slip. I'm the one in the crowd who hasn't said a word. More like a spectacle, smiling and writhing. Am I still conscious? Images are falling out of frame. I collapse in the blur. Slip. Am I still conscious? Or did I disintegrate? I'm long gone.
This entire album rips. I've had this on repeated play several times since it came out. I wish I had heard it a week earlier when they played in Boston. One of my fav albums in this genre period. slimes
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