Wow, amazing voice. Keep it up man, this is really good.

Hard Trials

Beth/Rest - Bon Iver Live at Vivid Sydney

Minnesota, WI (Tommy Kessler Remix)

Minnesota, WI (Tommy Kessler Edit)

Don't Call Me Back

I’m sipping on soda and coming in crazy
Over the water, as blue as a baby
And do I look like an F-14,
OCD,
A hurricane dream of the Navy

You’re burning bright white and coming in lonesome
Reading Bukowski down in the doldrums
And you look like a daisy chained
To your father’s name
And your war-torn brain
Dressed in poems

It’s an ocean
It’s American marriage
It’s watching our parents fumble their love
It’s self-absorption
It’s my anxious creation that I’m not enough
It’s a hand
On your back
It’s your dad
Green and black
But it’s owning this ourselves
And darlin’ it is nothing else

We’re tangled like angels and rolling down Blue Ridge
Igniting our souls as wax wings and heroin
And does this feel like a shooting star,
A burning car,
The highway tar on our footbed

Is it over
I promise I’m happy, it’s just all this happened
Like a coaster
Dropping you faster
Turning me backwards and back again
It’s a coat
‘Round your arms
It’s the cards
It’s our hearts
Coming closer, to something else
It’s a heaven, it’s a holy hell

I’m fearing my fate and falling like Titans
Through the blue in the air, through holes in horizons
And I’m screaming with arms outstretched for something to happen
But I am the master, I am the captain

The Master, The Captain

Heaven knows
You’ve always been La Vie en rose
Oh the color when you puckered slow
Four in the morning comes a purple glow

And I kissed too fast
Guess I was worried that this wouldn’t last
Oh the summer in your cheeks brushed past
How the seasons seem to slip through my grasp

When it comes to the moment
My enjoyment is hopeless
Every time I’m out smoking
My worry is near
But if I want this so badly
Am I just scared to be happy
I put my faith in the back seat
And drive with blind fear

Holy Smokes
Queen of my junior high hopes
Get in your bug and drive yourself back home
Leave me speechless on the side of the road

Cause I can put this back down
All the junior high love I found
In a birthday card cut out
Of some memories I’m reading through now

I guess I’m addicted
To pipes and paranoid visions
To guilt over girls I’ve been kissing
And missing the point
Hell-bent on suppressing
All these godsends and blessings
That come in some form of lesson
And some form of joy

You’re leaving Richmond
Never known a girl more driven
Still you miss every minute in Britain
All your friends and the wild living

Here comes the end of the season
Bumming smokes off of Jesus
Not every cigarette is a demon
If it feels right, then it’s reasoned

Holy Smokes

Until We Both Get Bored (feat. Phoebe Bridgers)

Packing cancer in my glovebox on a Tuesday evening drive
As I'm passing Amargosa, you are passing through my mind
And my car is headed eastward while the sun is racing west
Guess my body's moving forward, but my mind is turning left

Highschool's only checking boxes off a list
Getting kissed, taking hits, try hallucinogenics
And it's not what you'd expect, but then again it's what it is
I put my arm around you slowly, all my nerves are on the fritz

And we get together on December the 7th
You remind me Hawaii was blown to the heavens
On your birthday
Seventy years from the present
As we celebrate, I'm counting my fingers like blessings

And then you call me on my cellular phone
I'm on the road, up the coast, we booked a couple of shows
You asked me if I sing about you, I was sorry to say "No"
You said "That's okay baby, I don't write you any poems"

But we'll get together on December the 7th
You'll remind me Hawaii was blown to the heavens
On your birthday
Seventy years from the present
As we celebrate, count each other's fingers like blessings

Then you'd come over always so unexpected
Picking fruit from the trees that I left unattended
Playing word games
Watching the vowels descending
Like an air raid on spaces that I had neglected


But if we both go un-commemorated
By each other's free verse and lyrical phrases
We'll be okay just driving familiar pavements
Past our places, all wasted like Ford Island bases

Hard Trials

maxx marshall

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