He had had enough. He finally felt nice, yeah, but only when he's drunk... and we could tell he was.
Smoking as he walked, yeah, but only when he drinks liquor does he want to feel ashes on his feet.
And choking back kind words to himself feels worse, so breathing deep a couple times, the smoke inside, it feels nice.
When did my vision become so singular? At one point it wasn't, should I try to fight it?
Why does my conscious prevent truthful content? If context related, should I try to write it?
Did you see jesus in the burnt white bread, like drunk driving visions of smeared lights & a warm bed?
Australian multi-instrumentalist Nick Griffith tempers luxuriant yacht-pop arrangements with lo-fi touches across the sunny "7am." Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 1, 2020