
Last season’s vintage with coffee stains
Spelling out what we might genuinely need
Hope we might outlive our transgressions
Errant dispatches; all the ones you forgot to read
Last season’s vintage with coffee stains
Spelling out what we might genuinely need
Hope we might outlive our transgressions
Errant dispatches; all the ones you forgot to read
Remembering your own aches
The graveyard of broken cassettes
It was always the end of the world
Unconfined angst you won’t forget
Dreams & passions ill proportioned
All lost in a looping mixtape
Those days will forever be with us
For they were the days when we were shaped