When the night sky is your only friend / When you’re tired of playing pretend / When the ground under your feet / Feels like no more than a dream / And you’re in over your head / And your instincts are not fed / Well, you’re not free / You don’t feel free (Alice Phoebe […]

This whole world is a foreign land / We swallow the moon, but we do not know our own hand / We’re running with the case, but we ain’t got the gold / And we are trying to leave something behind (Sean Rowe)

Did you wake up to the thunder of the dead streets down below? / Did you hear the wind a-howlin‘ through some demon radio? / Oh no, I know it’s so hard to go (Alejandro Escovedo)