All the months of get off are no more than buckled lines. The appetite of my arms always made me blind. When I put my relaxed feet from the couch onto the ground. I know it’s just the same feel, the same taste in my mouth.
So I strain the sunlight for my eyes to have a good view for coffee and a nice time. Relishing the smell of spues made of cotton and Chinese sweat. Today I could fall in love with the next charming back. Ambling threw the streets framed by mug shot cabinets as well as smiles of tough guys like mine. I’m detached of togetherness.
But my endurance is not longer than these fucked up chair legs. My clearance is just a kind of empty space.
Where’s the sensation? Where is the crack? Where are you?
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