A CD copy of the new album! Comes with a digital download, and a button! Comes in a digipak designed by Mar Page and Benny Morawa.
Includes unlimited streaming of Scenes of Brooklyn or Meditations on Mid-Twenties Mediocrity
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 3 days
Purchasable with gift card
$12USDor more
Cassette + Digital Album
The new album on a beautiful yellow cassette tape! Art and layout by Benny Morawa and Mar Page.
Includes unlimited streaming of Scenes of Brooklyn or Meditations on Mid-Twenties Mediocrity
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 3 days
edition of 25
3 remaining
Purchasable with gift card
$8USDor more
about
A song about experiencing a quarter-life crisis, told through inner and outer monologue. Setting: Brighton Beach, on a slightly windy day.
lyrics
Being here it clears my mind, away from all of humankind. It’s something I can get behind, a form of prose without a rhyme. The sand is warm, but I’m so cold, why can’t I stop feeling alone? I came to the fork, I was told I’d traveled down the safest road. It’s weak to talk about all this, restraint that I could only wish for in this facade of a brain, a metaphor I can’t relate. I stare out at the rising tide, my sunblock only half-applied. Oddly enough, I can’t deny that this all makes me feel alive
I know that there is something else, another book on top a shelf. With pages blank and still so worn filled by some twenty-five year old. I’ll get it together today, a price someone will have to pay and my palms they begin to sweat, my heart still bursting from my chest. I want to feel alive again instead of feeling all this dread repeating up inside my head (repeating up inside my head) Put my hard feelings on a shelf, invite my own personal hell. Is it ok that I am here? I’ll someday live here without fear.
I feel fine; a fine line drawn in a thick chalk outline. I’m still dead though I see red, spin a web at the beachhead.
It is a mystery wrapped inside of history, a fresher change of scenery; I wonder at the greenery. A house that can’t feel like a home and then I start to lose control; a form without a show of pose, pathetic excuse for a soul.
Hold onto me; if the deep end comes will I know it’ll set me free? A universal race, do I run in place? If I change my look, if I change my fate? If I change my mind, will it make up time? If I follow the trail, is my life still mine? Just hold onto me. If the deep end comes will I know to stop and breathe? And if the green light shines, will I be too blind to see? And if the deep end comes, well I know it’s up to me. Just hold onto me.
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