I’ve been waking up in a field of fog my moss-covered eyes cannot see you. Though the day has broke I’m not breaking. I may fall asleep but I don’t dare to dream. I swallow soil at night to stay grounded. Can you see the earth in my veins? Would you mold me? Yeah? Are you tuning in via radio to some bullshit speculation show? Rumors fluffing the down in your pillow? Well go and tell your friends when the world ends that your blood is as blue as the rivers--paint your irises white and hide nothing. You can’t mold me. Alright, come on. Maybe I’m a bad man baby, maybe I’m not a man at all, and maybe this all means nothing--tell me again it’s not your fault. Would you mold me? You can’t mold me.

Clay

CHVRCHES - We Sink (Acoustic Cover)

Laura Marling - Medley (Take The Night Off, I Was An Eagle, You Know, Breathe) (Cover)

Aloe

Bamboo

Cactus

Dandelion

Eucalyptus

Open

Chvrches - Leave A Trace (cover)

A non-album single in advance of full-length LP, Lead (coming fall 2016)

What I'll Do

I'm going to stand on stage 
and peel my skin away. 
Oh--you're still hiding underneath 
all of these bloody, brittle sheets-- 
I'm going to do it anyways. 

I made a hole of my body, 
I made a show of my bed. 

I'm going to run from you 
when faced with any truth. 
I can only make sense of it 
when I have put some distance in 
I know this is what cowards do. 

My heart is nothing until I write it down 
I dip my pen into the blood where it is found. 
Roses and embers, I spill them to the ground. 
I'm painting pictures of my lovers in the sound. 

No, you were never mine. 
But, I don't pay that no mind. 
I'd let you touch me until I die 
so I can keep setting your name in rhyme. 
I'll sing it out so melancholy, oh, give me all of your pity. 

My heart is nothing until I write it down. 
I dip my pen into the blood where it is found. 
Roses and embers, I spill them to the ground. 
I'm painting pictures of my lovers in the sound. 

How cruel am I, darling? 
How cruel am I? 

My heart is nothing until I write it down. 
I dip my pen into the blood where it is found. 
Roses and embers, I spill them to the ground. 
I'm painting pictures of my lovers in the sound. 

I made a hole of my body, 
I made a show of my bed.

What I'll Do

Apres Pompeii

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