Siberian Breaks

Siberian Breaks






Time To Pretend

Time To Pretend

Oracular Spectacular




Ben Goldwasser、Andrew VanWyngarden

Sleep as the goer the bridge that watches the light speed thru and cries while the spirit stumbles and inside missile for the protection of you maybe it's siletn the voice can't bear anymore strain but speak without even knowing and streams outside in the direction of truth there's no reason there's no secret to decode if youc an't save it, leave it dying on the road wide open arms can feel so cold so cold feel so cold balance the books, the ledges, the loons the disappointed look on the faces that squint at the moon let's see it with shadows enhance and then vote to decide who'll advance silver jet plane, making a turn exciting the brain that expects it to crash and then burn it's not the life lesson I'd've guessed if you're conscious you must be depressed or at least cynical but someone might still eat the steaks even if they're tough spending the day chewing the fat floating away isn't roguh but it's not enough oh marianne, pass me the joint the sandpaper's tan go-getters are surfing the point and london's a cratch on the lens it's over before it begins silk 'round her neck falls down to her shoulders the older I get, the more I suspect there's a trick but really there's no trip at all that doesn't result in a fall or a faltering but something might spit out the bait even if it's real rolling away missing a spoke close to the ground like a wheel but it's not enough holding th eline clutching the phone nobly wasting the night, but it isn't right it's not right smelling for blood praying for rain running away isn't rough, but it's not enough the low tide is telling me, when it's over, to breathe in everything exposed and comes back to cover me in a blanket being here's always changing tunes the empty sky surrounds me but i can't see at all wide open arms can feel so cold and you can sit beside me and tell me what it's worth but I hope I die before i get sold I hope I die before I get sold I'd rather die before I get sold if you find the soul that you lost frozen in a starry void take it within and hope the sight of blood can will signs of life to return back to the way that it was long before it made a noise to keep on quietly reminding you what's never created or destroyed wake as the swell peaks the close-outs drowning the birds with roars and howls scare the new unkindness that picks and laughs at the carrion scene forces you see breath can always go into hiding and wait 'til it passes over or stay far gone for all eternity
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