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lyrics

Sixty watts watched me
examine my breath in a backyard,
in the year New England failed to recall
that it was March and not May
that came a lion and left a lamb
and let fog unwind the lace cobweb of life
under the 4 AM halogen moon.

Melt an embrace
over my moccasin moves and dog calls.
They were arabesques and soliloquies,
respectively, sung legato
to the matron seraphim of

Lonely lovers with the coldest hands
taste low tide on the navy sands,
and she and Muse are sisters, mute
in adolescent fury and jealousy.

She hums just above an engine.

Sophomoric aural embargoes
weigh heavy cargo on my soul,
who cuts when he thinks I'm asleep.

But I know better,
because I only cry when I mean it.

She hums just above an engine,
and she leads beneath the sheets.

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The Lido Venice Boston, Massachusetts

5 hardcore, punk, and indie kids played folk + post-punk in 2004, sometimes in weird time signatures.

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