So I woke up on a concrete slab in a cemetery, and I packed up all the food I had and continued toward the sea.
I walked down through the city where the people used to live.
And the sun climbed in a hazy sky, casting amber rays on the crumbling buildings left behind when the people went away:
A ghost town rotting on the shore of a blackened lake.
If I write it down, will anyone remember?
If I write it down and someone comes along, if there's anyone paying attention...
If I write it down, will anyone discover?
If I write it down and someone comes along, if there's anyone paying attention, a world's end written out, a last remnant.
There's a heavy stillness broken only by the pounding waves on an unyielding expanse of sand, lifeless and grey.
Empty vessels on the shoreline, hulls rusting away with holes.
But there's something lurking underneath the surface, vague and slow:
A dark shape rising up from deep below.
I last saw...?
Can't remember.
I last saw...?
Is there anyone in the world?
Long-time Boston spazzy math-punks take a deep breath and make their best and most dynamic record. Enigmatic lyrics and an overall atmosphere of paranoiac dread hang atop it all. Best of 2013 contenda Hex Map
Propulsive feedback-soaked basement punk jams from Boston expatriates now hanging out in cow country. RIYL dirty carpets, jumping around and slipping and hitting your head on the water heater, parties Hex Map