Colin

from by Anawan

/

lyrics

Fall in place, my soft-winged doll.
She was in a bad place, she had no job,
Crying in her kitchen, bleeding in her pot.

Colin fills her 4-ounced eyes,
Brimming with a tired heartless disguise,
Sucking on their cafe's meager-teated ma.

Fall into rest, burrowed in your voices,
Trapped in your nest, blanketed in choices.
Straightjackets:
You're a prosperous wench.
You're a lump on a bench.
You nurse a dull flacid inch.
You sold your smile
To stand beneath the shadow of a greater hand.

credits

from Soft Wings, released March 20, 2012

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TWVE Brooklyn, New York

Brooklyn-based, experimental pop music, centered around heavy vocal harmonies.

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