i used to think that we would never know enough that we were caught between a shadow and a bluff a scent so fleeting so misleading us a storm cloud s passion spirit ashes us we can sink our teeth in whatever fare we want we can fill our rooms or leave them vacant waiting endless options rooms of boxes us filled or empty feigned or living us and when we cross the street and leave the salesmen wagging tongues behind the cemetery field is the wild open we were meant to be a tributary running down cause the valleys meant to be to be filled with children
['christian indie', 'christian pop', 'indiecoustica', 'ok indie']