May all the window lights be mine
yet in my house I'm the eyes on the street
wishing for my bookshelf and the naked light,
wishing for the room's breathe behind it's neck.
The perspective, the tiptoes, the curtain,
drive the guy in the street crazy.
Yet at home I'm the void in between this nose
and the shadow on the wall.
I wonder how this may sound from outside
while I step another foot out of myself
From time to time, when I forget to talk,
I dress up as a broken mirror
and I gush cold bibles over my head.
My head's 2 dogs fucking with haste.
Soaked I accept to store myself,
making little bubbles when shutting.
In the end it's a furious stream elbowing
because it's running out of air.
I wonder how this may sound from outside
while I step another foot out of myself
There are no windows in the morning
There are grey tree dusters caressing the facades
And heads stepping on the blood at the traffic lights
And too much light to show my hairy words
I keep walking the streets a step ahead of me
like an inertial hangover
that redraws me northeast
and knows all the costumes to say
Ottawa duo Paragon Cause craft songs that occupy the space between goth and dream pop, with sublime melodies drifting in guitar haze. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 15, 2021