Eternity never seemed so discrete
Always weeping in the leaves
Ever present in the light
And the voices in the breeze
They were meant for me
Like a gift of disease on the mend
You're too tired, you once said
To hold the torch of my regret
Said you're trying to forget
So your story came to us
Like a fire in the brush
Like desire plagued with rust
So I lived my life of lust
Of conspired song and dance
All designed to plague the beast
Of my guilted consequence
So rejoice in the blood
Of my secret army now
Of my wasted martyrdom
While I sulk
Did you used to wish you grew up with those great rock bands from the 60's and 70's? If so, these guys are for you. They've brought back that sweet sound with their debut album "Calm Carnivore." Milo Fairweather