Between The Spreadsheets

That one girl that did that one show with her voice or something.

I remember hearin’ tunes that didn’t belong to any band I knew. My footsteps, draggin’ across the linoleum, made less noise than the silence that answered ‘em. Cracked my knuckles outta habit, nothin’ was broken, but it felt like somethin’ should be.

The sounds move too quickly to see, but the blur was vivid enough for me to follow. So I followed, like any fool with a past and no future. Down streets that never started and alleys that refused to end.

Darkness wrapped around me like a bad decision. And just when I thought I’d found my footing, the ground gave out. Dropped me into a tailspin of fear that gripped tighter than your necktie after a shot of cheap whiskey.

I finally came to, but the nightmare stayed put.

Lofi funk. Thanks for tuning in.

@private-domain-records
@stratfordct

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Between The Spreadsheets

John Mint