Grace cathedral hill, all wrapped in bones of setting sun, all dust and stone and moribund. I paid twenty-five cents to light a little white candle for a New Year's Day. I sat and watched it burn away then turned and weaved through slow decay. We were both a little hungry so we went to get a hot dog down the Hyde St. Pier. The light was slight and disappeared. The air, it stunk of fish and beer. We heard a superman trumpet play the National Anthem.
And the world may be long for you, but he'll never belong to you. But on a motorbike, when all the city lights blind your eyes, are you feeling better now?
Some way to greet the year: your eyes all bright and brimmed with tears. The pilgrims, pills and tourists here all sing "Fifty-three bucks to buy a brand new halo." I'm sweet on a green-eyed girl, all fiery Irish clip and curl, all brine and piss and vinegar. I paid twenty-five cents to light a little white candle.
And the world may be long for you, but he'll never belong to you. But on a motorbike, when all the city lights blind your eyes, are you feeling better now?
Smooth, sophisticated pop with neoclassical flourishes from the Berlin-based duo of Fabian Till and Birk Buttcherey. Bandcamp New & Notable May 2, 2024