Body odor from despairing silhouette leaning against rib cage in diamond mist, funeral insight is rare in the cause, and effect of reactions to world growth, and substance. Odd angels with broken arms limping in sunset reading tender love letters behind dumpster, mumbling in the cold hard snoe, shaking with their fingers in their warm mouths... Mantras open, and lucid daring anyone, and anything to interfear with its beauty.
Authorizing servant sorcery as a ways to pay off deadly debts with the prehistoric courts, and their mature headaches... The Library Of Babel have created a reality considering the loss of a child, the steady struggle and pain of nerves twisting like branches into ladders for the viewer to gasp such internal damage.
This wonderful record is the sound of body functions after midnight, your partner laying beside you as your features distort under hotwater bath, and become even more attractive, and at that moment they both realize that its all right there. Distractions blinding, and unconceivable, they understand each other for the first time, they breath together the piano wire its splinters their voice in the chair. They sleep still, and still sleep...
https://bluetapes.bandcamp.com/album/blue-nineteen
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