Honey if you asked me about the nature of a heart, and trust me I know that you won't, I'd point you down the road, where the asphalt comes apart, all the weather, all the traffic, all the load. I'd sit up all night talking to the girls I used to know, thumbing past each picture at a glance. The years of folded paper, the awkwardness in dance, a smile split wide with every second chance. Around the time you put away your warmer dress, and stood out freezing in the snow, the clouds would part, just so you could see it best, the light fading off into the west. It's one more for the canon of loss and regret, as winter winds down and you go. It's your breath in the title, or worn into the frets, and the light fading off into the west. Here are all these revellers, amassed unfocussed joy, the rings of senseless stepping ripple out, breaking to surround you, the air that you employ, when all they need's an idol, or something to destroy.
credits
from Almanac,
released August 10, 2017
Emily Bos - accordion, vocals
Courtney Dubois - vocals
Evan Dwinnell - drums
Lincoln Hamlyn - effects
Rebekah Hawker - vocals
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