doomed from the start
my eyes may see,
but may not do unto my heart
turn and face the one beside you
let it burn and claw and fight you
watch and see how cold the river runs.
alter by a prairie stable
populous of young and able
love me as my skin comes undone
doomed from the start
the river runs clean
the blood in my dreams
floods what i must impart;
a wound is a wound
fester me now down the line of tragedy
leave and don't come back for me
I swear, I am not there
all the halls and walls are bare
abject horror, stripped with care
I am not there, I am not there
As summer gives way to fall, shadowy, mournful electropop from Hante provides the perfect soundtrack to the coming cold. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 30, 2016