Fever, coming after you
Your veins bows a way through
More they scald an iron eye
Separating more the frozen.
Fever, reaching certain size of pores
Treason vomits older you.
Watchers taunts that you're sold…
She comes drainedly, asks you
Are you ready to end up in a barn again?
Three sons, coming after you.
Watchers, treason, separation is a foul
How pretty authentic yield
That burns the life
Every single one,
Watchs for faith devotion and truth
Never turn yourself amongs the night
Follow every word i say
Its not the last time we burn here
I'm ready to feel
Watching you fall
And I'm ready
Joy is falling amongst the night
Watching every word we say
The indescribable Fawn Limbs return with another LP that slams together grindcore, math rock & experimental music to jaw-dropping effect. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 22, 2021