Streets of neon and ice,
Broken bottle celebration.
A warm flesh touch.
It’s been so long life’s a new sensation.
I was floating.
She pulled me back from the brink.
Long time till dawn.
She helped me not to think.
And we were falling.
My dull senses began to roar.
It was the sin I still adore.
Down the hall sleep walking.
Her voice atop the stairs.
Smart boys were careful,
I was too smart to care.
The sheet fell from her shoulder,
Her hair fell on my face,
Such a strange comfort
In such a strange place.
A sky of lightning.
Moon shadows cross the floor.
It was the sin I still adore.
Blue spark from fingertip to lips,
Bed sheets awash in radiation.
Static pops from a 78
Is the language of an intoxication.
Rain sound dreams
Agitating my naïveté.
Smoke and screams.
Yeah, she still pulling me her way.
Stories witnessed.
Invitations taken and missed.
It’s Sunday morning.
Two names crossed off the list.
I woke up shaking.
Dawn’s faint light she wore.
It was the sin I still adore.
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