Sunday’s game has been postponed
in light of the recent storm.
Chalk was washed out, mud was thrown.
Scoreboards have returned to null.
Maybe we could catch a cold
watching rain turn into snow.
But you don’t know my name,
and I don’t think that will
change the landscapes you have sown.
Composites of what we’ve known.
Logic gates that trip the code
live in the layers below.
If you teach me, I could grow
and turn into something whole.
Elevate me for the fall
when I’m up against the wall.
Cause you don’t know my name,
and I don’t think that will change.
This album fucks as hard as dripping and magic but imo feels the most personal and emotional release of the three. It’s weird and frantic but hits
this really interesting balance.
jude