Promised child, I was born blonde and skittish
I’m bound to renege on sounding ominous
Popeye no raw spinach, I’ve found a new image
but when I open my mouth, y’all are finished
I distort the words I wrote on investigative reports
Death don’t know the weight of his pale horse
But his horse knows the weight of death, and every protest takes the place of breaths
Can’t cauterize, I spoke last, I caught flak
Apologize for what? Huh? That I fought back?
Thoughts rack my brain, that’s all that remains
Hold them back, restrain, it’s uncharted terrain
Still distraught from the war, I sought facts
so I don’t talk anymore, I’m all rap
Tight lipped til my reckoning comes
But is it better the weight of the world than the weight of the one?
I’m speaking tongues
watch your step if you are going down a sharp incline
or if there are snakes
or if you are a virgin
I wanna answer the phone, but I know better
Sever tether to mind, I’m choking on letters
Misarticulate the pain, stick to all the same refrains, man what am I saying?
Mend the mechanics and lose the message, stumbled and stuttered through my confessions
And it’s a miracle I can even speak with my tongue so firmly wedged in cheek
Wonderfully absurdist pop songs that manage the tricky balance of humor and hookiness—The Exquisite Corpse as ’60s pop. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 4, 2022
The regenerative beauty of the natural world is again the focus of New Mexico artist Heather Trost's shimmering home studio psychedelia. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 20, 2022
Henry Terepka (as Henry Grant), also of the psych-pop group Zula, moves into smooth sophisti-pop territory as he steps out solo. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 2, 2021