assuming, we live on a thin piece of land
paper planes and cats in bowls roaming the history at hand
perhaps we, should give the town second thoughts
the nasty drought took us all out, all our damned hearts
are a shame; ashamed, by the poor creature worming out of nature
to blame, the same, spot we steal our first ever
servant from, stomping out the giant fort
we build, from strikes of guilt, layers of reasoning,
withers as the seasons crawl in
pieces, drawn on ruffled timeline
losing its self-repricating mind
is a shame; ashamed, by the richer leaving the evil of the lesser
faded, and shaded to hues unknown, unblown-up into figures they never comprehend
instead, they led a peaceful nation of blindfolded dreams, muted obscenity
i see, thee are weaving a tree which roots has started crumbling apart
i beg you to forgive this mumbling jumbliest jumble
i beg you to relief this rebellious humbliest humble
Culled from unreleased recordings from her recent "Light Sleep" and "Voice Hardcore" releases, Hiromi Moritani's latest showcases the softer, less harrowing side of Phew’s sound Bandcamp Album of the Day Sep 2, 2020