Strings At Her End

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lyrics

Kites fly towards the tides,
I am only one of them.
Winds rise our insides,
intestines are the string at her end.

Will I ever be at home with her on the ground?
Synthetic winds are rocking
and all the world is crashing down.

---

When we depend on the dead

to pull our carriages and carry our bread,
we may be dead when they're gone,
severed by machines that carried us along.

credits

from Works & Days, released May 14, 2015

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Orders Hartford, Connecticut

At turns earthy and surreal, Orders forges narratives where elements of folk, alt rock, pop, and poetry collide with beautiful unpredictability.

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