Fell in league with the bastard souls. The last in line.
Sworn to the dark and living low. Desperate every night.
Cold water and kerosene. Can’t beat the rent.
Minor-league chemistry and sleeping in.
The wind cuts through my desert blood. So thin and warm.
I speak in wives tales and rumor mills. Six crows in line.
Wanted to call last night, but I’m all crossed knives.
Wanted to trade my youth for yours, I wasted mine.
And here I go running at the mouth.
All those old feelings knocking out my teeth.
We’ve all got wolves in the walls.
We’ve all got a ghost to chase.
We medicate our existential impulses.
Darkness and light in the dead of night.
It’s a fine line to fall below and not come back.
Living in red and betting black, the lowest low.
Cold water and kerosene. Liver kissed clean.
Cold water and kerosene.
The most slept-on band in indie music makes a welcome return with another A+ record mixing hardcore and slacker rock with jokes. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 13, 2023