tall grass swallows the sparks we'd controlled my tongue learned from surviving itself in the heart of this calm there may be no Nature but empire corruption be my bed we're trapped, trembling like dogs, in the laundry room here, suffering slips through time here, exhale flies
--my dear, small, sorry enchantment,
I waited to drown with you under a still, dark sky
I was lucky enough to see these kids play at the cd release show for this album in Oklahoma City. They were great and sadly missed. What a short lived scene MySpace Grindcore was... Still the memories remain and Wax Vessel Records is doing an amazing job keeping it alive. eatdogs