Oh sometimes my feet are cold
Withered toes not knowing what’s behind the window
Oblivious to what grows
Oblivious to what grows…
With my hands in the air feelin kind of weak
Speakin only truth, tryin not to seek my
Shadow
Hearing whispers in the dark sparking up the light
Melody my sword carving out the fright of
Singing to you
Sometimes my feet are cold
Liquid appetite I might feel as though
My memories are much more than gooey soul
My memories are much more than gooey soul…
With my hands in the air feelin kind of weak
Speakin only truth, tryin not to seek my
Shadow
Hearing whispers in the dark sparking up the light
Melody my sword carving out the fright of
Singing to you
Introspective pop songs with transcendent melodies offer a joyful meditation on staying present in a world that often moves too fast. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 16, 2023