And he told to come back but his shadow was a puppet swaying back and forth like the bait to the fish swaying back and forth. Blankly I stare onto the plank wish for leaks to earn water. No weight on the line pulls me onto ground. There’s no weight on the line.
As he told to come back tonight our banquet went wild. But no crossed mountain could feet our thirst and we fell asleep.
But he told me the truth: In my lids he’s still in pursuit. He’s drawing closer to them how I feel numb! He’s drawing closer to me. Still I’m cold lower my limbs the route’s already broken. The bulk is my plank that I’m used to walk. The bulk is my plank!
Faked friends forced to read my lips and I was supposed to kwon that we wouldn’t meet again.
This imaginative release from Monty Cime blends Latin folk music and experimental noise for a sense of surreal nostalgia. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 30, 2023