The rules have all changed
and no one told me
Oh where will the good boys go
We cover our sins
In self filled pleads
With ash and dirt and done
When you set yourself
in front of your deeds
and heave your final sign
When you breathe your last breath
with a cursing sting
And tears from poison eyes
And I'm tired of that white picket cross
And I'm tired of that white picket cross
The clothes that you wear
The air that you breathe
And that cash that is in your leather fold
None is your own
None is your keep
And none is your crown of gold
And I'm tired of that white picket cross
And I'm tired of that white picket cross
This debut from the Melbourne-based folk-rock band tackles environmental issues, self-determination, and relationships. Bandcamp New & Notable May 26, 2023
Recorded on the Grecian isle of Hydra, this is blissed-out psych pop with stacked falsetto harmonies and luscious arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 9, 2023