Black Flies

from by Gothics

/

lyrics

my skin is torn, bruised & stung.
this state's a bed of parasites,
a puddle of wings
made to find me.

how useless trying <> conversations don't get far
to get away <> black flies love it when we talk.
the wild center <> three days & how far I walked
is just my breath <> just to end up where I am.

credits

from The Wild Center, released August 2, 2016

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Gothics Jersey City, New Jersey

one long weekend;
two dudes that didn't go camping

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