I hope I get to know you before the bombs drop and everyone's too desperate
I hope that when the end times come, I know beforehand that that's my final exit
And if cannibalism sets in and we all go full thunderdome,
I'd rather be an amputee with you, than be alone.
There's a tweaker in the supermarket bathroom, with the stall door locked
They carried him out in a bodybag when a man walked in and decided to call the cops
We can weep for his lost innocence, but I think that instead,
We should go home and have a Lean Cuisine on my bed.
This land is your land, this land is my land
from the gerrymander to the black tar heroin
from the blind disciples to my restless agony
this land was made for you an me
This land is yours, this land is mine
This land is one day going to unwind
and when that day comes, you people all will see
this land wasn't made for you or me
We can count all the infections we're exposed to and hope that we get lucky
Let's hope that we get old diseases with long ass names because I think that'd be funny
We'll make light from licking batteries until we lose our spark
and we'll hold hands and watch the mushroom clouds in the park
We'll blind ourselves with ignorance until our world goes dark
and we'll hold hands and watch the mushroom clouds in the park
Anna Arobas makes intricate, otherworldly folk-pop with delicate, glacial arrangements but a howl of heartbreak at the center. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 11, 2022
Belaver’s “Trash” builds from hushed verses to a big, booming crescendo of a chorus, with lyrics that praise finding beauty in darkness. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 14, 2018
