Tunnel-eyed dreams make a lousy bed, so I played it safe like it was obvious. You are the fire burning in my head. I heard your name and I found my rest. I'm not one to push my luck, but...

I see the wind fix your hair.
I see the blood rush your cheeks. 
You are the steel in my eyes.
Come here to me my Love.

Shadow-making, cryptic sun: think I found my waxen wings for once. 
There's so much fear and good in us: manipulated, wandering dust.
I'm not one to push my luck but...

I see the wind fix your hair.
I see the blood rush your cheeks. 
You are the steel in my eyes.
Come here to me my Love.

What is safe?
What if I..

I see the wind fix your hair.
I see the blood rush your cheeks. 
You are the steel in my eyes.
Come here to me my Love.

Steel in my Eyes

I took the train at Line 2 everyday for a year in Shanghai. I wrote this song to capture the feeling of getting lost in my own thoughts while staring out the window and feeling the rumble of the tracks.

Tiny Deeds /Line 2

You tie yourself in knots fighting for your holy tribes yet still
A blue-lit guillotine away 
From the social wars you’re waging from an echo-chambered bed
Can we talk over coffee like we could still be friends
I’m no king or prophet but I feel it caving in

I wish we were closer
I wish we were
I wish we were closer
I wish we were

Tell me who to trust 
Oh fickle current age: the rift is thickening
The tired ‘have-not’ trench affair
The moral higher ground contested by some puppets on a string
I was grown before I saw it right
Now it’s all I see
I’m no king or prophet but I feel it caving in

I wish we were closer
I wish we were
I wish we were closer
I wish we were

Closer

St. Louis Indie Surf Rock

(Clod of earth, speck of dust)

Saint Zosima