My code is gasoline fumes
By a summer streetlight.
With a stomach bleed
To guarantee it’s a long night.
So pass another drone
To the beehive queen.
Benevolent lies
Show you’re not being mean.
But if you need a lift
You can borrow my spine.
Still, I think I’m doing fine.
My code is motion sick kids
In fluorescent moonlight
And some loyal friends
Sick of fighting the good fight.
Need a better way I can cut the sound.
You’re needing me less.
But I’ll still stick around.
And I took a look,
Though it sure isn’t mine.
Still I think I’m doing fine.
Get a cheap reward
For the chance you take.
Well underway
With another mistake.
You can shoot me a look,
I won’t think it’s sign.
Ran out of flesh I can combine.
My code’s a generous gift
When it doesn’t feel right
And these stupid sounds
That are keeping me up tight.
So the Radiant Child
Wants to prove his worth,
But he missed his chance
For an easy still birth.
And he’s always know
He won’t procreate.
So, he’ll go ahead
And dissociate.
Glass in the heel:
Cinderella can’t stand.
Spaz out in joy
Till it gets out of hand.
But if you say you will,
I’ll be standing in line.
What makes me think I’m doing fine?
Dreamy vocals, pulsing rhythms, and eerie synths come together to create luxe but ominous atmospheres on the latest from Toronto's Praises. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 3, 2021