I fear change, more than anything. And parts of me are constantly dying. I can't fake this. I'm scared half to death. I can't hide the fact that I have regrets. Must strike a pose while I find my balance. Can't let them know that I'm wrought by fraudulence. Who am I now? Who was I then? Who will be tomorrow? A desolate man without a plan and consumed by sorrow. Now on two knees, nothing but septic air to breathe, and so it seems I can't ignore, this wretched vial lore. Yet this is her beloved book. Can't even bring myself to take a second look. And so I pour myself out. Expose and banish all my doubt. That this truly is my path. So I can be cleansed at last. And prepare for my impending parenthood. These things are too often misunderstood. I fear change more than anything. But some parts of me just aren't worth saving. Much like gangrenous limbs. Much like a cancer. I must cut and gore them out. I can't fake it. I'm scared to death.
credits
from While Your Hand was Broken,
released December 31, 2014
D. Peterson: guitar, drums, vocals
J. Dandurand: electric bass guitar
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