more from
Self-Addressed Stamped Envelope
We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.
/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $1 USD

     

lyrics

These old men will break your heart
With silent, western walls
A startled flock of birds
That circle near this plot of earth
The darkness wakes the dust
And stirs the laughter of hyenas
A pocket watch
Thought gold
But now a blue and green patina
Letters written
Pages bursting
Buried under feet and stones
A modicum of guilt
A pinch of salt
An angled shirt with bones
What happens to the stuff
That used to occupy the air?
On days where pregnant clouds
Would shrug expectancy and form
And I write in different styles
But the language stays the same
The night drives different miles
And the mourning takes the blame
I took the reigns at the beginning
Begging someone else to steer
Into abyss in hopes some lightning might
Illuminate the path
A fear of growing into skin
With slits as eyeholes
Slate and grey
That harken stoic easygoing
Signals
Un afraid or lacking wisdom
Perfect to display a visage
Not easy to maintain
The mission
Skips until repeats
A perfect symphony of heartbreak
I never tried to, like
Umm… I don’t know…
Bend the will of destiny
Or display all the best of me
It’s more like just what’s left of me
Like, here just take the rest of me
Not easy to maintain

Pluck my eyes before you stroke my hair
A hand needs held
don’t break the chain
They never read the pain as textbook navy blue or ashen grey
-He was fine before he came ok
Ok I never heard the Punchline landing blows how many struck a nerve that wasn’t tapped
On a shore of blank ripples that match
The tiles in the kitchen
Ripped up and cracked
Thrown in the trunk
Crashed in the valley/sinking downward
Fire burning paints the setting sun
Apologies like fine
horse hairs in a brush
Only significant if you can
see em in a bunch
In a row
Seated side by side
Our image shifts
Slides of pastels
Books of recipes and lists
Not even counting all the times
I made a wish
Stars that crashed into the depths
Keeps on passing me by
And everyone who asks in passing I’ll always say fine
I’ll deviate one day for certain but it always takes time
It’s not my friend and I’ve drawn targets on it blacked out it’s eyes

credits

from Hand Painted Model Trains (Deluxe), released March 15, 2024

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Unsung Morgantown, West Virginia

contact / help

Contact Unsung

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this track or account