Not that I switched over, I was calm enough to where I didn't need to fight. But who wouldn't, when your death is always a crime. Before I'd wield my forceps. I would clench my jaw and my skinny fists would fight. But who wouldn't when you're always running out of time. Often I am subtle, I contain myself and I believe in all your lies. But who wouldn't, cause we're fucked and that's just fine. Tonight it seemed much different. I had burned my tongue and nothing tasted right. It was sudden, but I do believe that it was time. I can feel this tension rise. I am so calm now that I can really work this out. I'll admit your waking life has been so drowned out that our talks become shouts.
The third studio album from self-proclaimed "prunge" artist Kevin Nichols; delves into the perils of depression and anxiety. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 6, 2018