And most of all I hate the one that I see every day
I do the best I can so I won't recognize this face
I've defrosted the fucking freezer, washed my shirts and wished for wine
I can't drink as all the drugs I'm taking go down my spine
I recall a friend of my grandmother kind old lady nurse
When I remember her last days I truly feel remorse
She used to come to grandma's all the time when she could see
She didn't hear much and leaned so close to TV screen
Her daughter and her asshole son-in-law were brainwashed dumb
They'd give their last shirts and her money to some church of sun
Deaf, tiny, hungry, dehydrated, she breathed her last one day
I wish her solitude would trigger her own hurricane
The regenerative beauty of the natural world is again the focus of New Mexico artist Heather Trost's shimmering home studio psychedelia. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 20, 2022
Sweetly melancholy bedroom pop is rarely as actually vulnerable and personal as it is in this Australian artist's hands. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 21, 2018