No idle tastes

Should be something like a rolling over, aimed to die and other drug-fueled awfuls. fucking stint the way of high end living to replace the mess of maybes.


End it easy.

Face on the wall. names scrawling. posies pocketed and paid in full again. again. again.


The amber company is coming.

Shiftless When Idle.mp3


Sleeping floors

Come on and live it, kid.

Dream something better for me and this ghost i've been riding the way back i came.

Sweet sultan futures.

You've seen it enough times. dyed right. inked. pale fisted fury in the last summer light beckoning the sailors sink rather than face another day on the curb counting teeth (unfamiliar currency to the boys back on land) and wishing there was a decent way.

Bags rustling, wait for abraham.

Dead End America.mp3