There's a dead weight on your shoulders
And it brings you down
There's a stone tied right around your neck
Dragging you to the ground
There's a mask you wear from an old county fair
That reminds me of childhood dreams
The ones fixed in our heads
True and real in a sense
But they're sewn in with ragged-loose seams
So cut out, cut it down
That shade don't know the light it's found
It's the sun that measures
The shadows you see
There's a sweet taste under your tongue
Yeah, it's wine from bitter distress
And the sharp bite could spoil the man
When he drinks from his press
There are days you swear it feels just like the year
That you broke your wrist in the dark
You said never again would you ever stay grim
Yeah, the bone-splitting broke you apart
So cull a thought, change your mind
Your words could fix the trouble entwined
Is it best to just let those sleeping dogs die?
Occult psych-folk in the '70s U.K. tradition that further affirms the historical link between Appalachian and British folk songs. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 8, 2019
Epic, folksy psych-pop, diligently crafted from sessions recorded in a beach studio and an old San Francisco mansion. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 9, 2015
The former frontman of the Pains of Being Pure at Heart lets loose with a passionate, Dylan-esque record full of razor-sharp lyricism. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 2, 2021