there is no astral shine
from a makeshift prison cell
grandchild of hikikomori, just as
naïve as before
you shelter me from yourself, a
mourner who’s living out
their final days
I know it seems backhanded advice, since our
histories say otherwise, but I
don’t need a warden to choose what our
amity is drifting towards. I
know shackles grind to the bone in a
blood-red halo
I’ve been cut off from you, the
drug overdosed on one
December. we both
speak of the past as
if it defines who we
are now, but it
doesn’t. no it won’t
you protect me from yourself, a
misanthrope departed
there is no astral shine
credits
from Live,
released April 20, 2018
Words and music by Drew Mazur
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