last night I lied
I knew when thy sighed
The stupid green spirit
no, nor my cheery subtle sad mood
can pull and pull us out of this fit of, "what is it?"
contorted, ecstasy on moments of proper calls,
improper stalls, beneath your grace I find my face in the mirror of halls,
my life goes on
forever,
in thy space
I die facing up to the sun
but it meant nothing,
for naught,
wrong page.
A moment
all caught up,
whats fair?
I don't care.
I don't care.
our shoes bedside,
with you I cried.
I don't even hear it,
no, nor I fear its sharp cuddle claws woo,
to pull and pull apart my heart into pieces,
for breakfast,
soak up maple guesses.
with my face, my hands stay stuck to pray for nothing,
just burred and cold,
since you must be gold,
I'll save face
till time takes
a toll to ferry this soul,
but it meant nothing,
for naught,
wrong page.
A moment
all caught up,
whats fair?
I don't care.
See ya later.
-AFTERWORDS-
To go
my friend
to sow
again.
I wont
pretend,
I want
thy end.
Thy end.
Rosie Varela brings her past in shoegaze to bear in these gorgeous, haunting songs wreathed in mist & centered on sparkling instrumentation. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 6, 2022