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Age old baptismal fonts run dry
become polished by the ruin of time
Squared away with keepsakes and cracked drawings of no man and no mans land
While the once placid waters are nothing but distant sacred pasts
Passed down inch by inch until they too burst
Nothing left but coughs and sputters hanging on wind swept nothing
Still a remembrance remains
a holy vow like high tide crashes against us
An unknown observation highlighting the long dead stars
The drawn over scars
Magic dust of the better lucks
creeps up
But human
Too human
we fixate on what’s real
Refuse reality based on rhythm
On ritual
On deep breath
On that core beating gleaming vision of what was
It tries it’s best to find us
Remind us that it too is real
the late night butterfly dreams and the high rise hope
around us
Unheard and unseen
Unknown and in between the good gods and near perfection
some undercurrent pulls us, please
keep your eyes closed
And pay no attention to what is.

theliltingwall:

Tim and Eric

Pipple Brothers // What I Need


Excellent drum tone and choice of hairstyles

Played 9 times

itsnotourfaultpodcast:

we’ve got a guest host. tommmmmmmmas hrimmm.

still weirdobeardo