There are notes scribbled on little pages of old notebooks with bent spiral spines that come loose and blow across the ragged parks of forgotten American towns where the dreams collect on attic shelves and the photos fade in frames bought at dime stores long since absorbed into corporations owned offshore on islands in oceans you and I will never see and these notes blow up and over the power lines and under the shoes of men waiting in line for something, anything and only luke finds them.
There are notes scribbled on little pages of old notebooks with bent spiral spines that come loose and blow across the ragged parks of forgotten American towns where the dreams collect on attic shelves and the photos fade in frames bought at dime stores long since absorbed into corporations owned offshore on islands in oceans you and I will never see and these notes blow up and over the power lines and under the shoes of men waiting in line for something, anything and only luke finds them.
MrMickeybitzko 3 months ago
Gorgeously shot. Great narrative. Well done, you guys. Matty: gimme more!
Nashkofye 1 year ago
Wow. Such a beautiful and sad song.
untitledsurf 1 year ago