Even though its hard to say, and I wish it weren't the case its hard for me to be happy for you. All these distant memories, they're stuck to me, they're in my bloodstream. The glue I've laid between the bricks, the foundation to the walls I've built. The very shit that keeps me feeling, something like a normal human, something like a mass of nerves, a moth against a burning bulb. Someone told me, we keep our hands in fists, we've done it since we were little kids. We do it to protect ourselves, we do it without even thinking. Sometimes people die, you can't remember what they look like. You feel like shit, but you don't know if you want to see their face at night. Even though its hard to say, and I wish it weren't the case, we've just gone our separate ways. Its hardest when we're face to face, pretending like its not the case. You can't ignore the lightning, it will strike down anyway. Someone told me, we keep our hands in fists, we've done it since we were little kids. We do it to protect ourselves, we do it without even thinking.
Winged Wheel anchor their Space Age grooves in rock, the muscle of drum and bass and guitar undergirding wild flights of fancy. Bandcamp Album of the Day May 3, 2024