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It follows close behind clinging near in my shadow, just over my shoulder. Death stalks me and wears a cloak of all my regrets to relive over and over. The blood on my hands torments me like the words I should have said and when I should have said them. Come next snowfall I hope that this all makes sense - One day I'll have to apologize - The sadness in my heart, and the hell I'm living in - But when will that day come? What should I live for? I hope that this heartache strikes a chord. I wish that I could say... What could I live for? I don't think I can do this anymore. ...I'm so sorry everyday, everyday, everyday.
Eventually every colour fades. Lacking a catalyst; a gradual change for the worse. Since the loss of myself, and having lost all else, now I know for sure that we aren't what we once were anymore. The turpentine's fast acting and it's taking with it what I thought I would always have to define myself - hard to remember my old self. The turpentine's fast acting and it's taking with it what I thought would always have to define myself - oh God, I'm someone else. You're turpentine; efficient and effective. Stripping me down, stripping me bare. You're turpentine. I cannot feel this mask that conceals my suffering. In silence while these moments are on repeat. I remember a time your smile shining and leaving impressions on my skin. You're an imbalance of chemicals - a mess of electrical impulse - and I'm calculated. It shouldn't come as a surprise to you or me that this is the way things had to be. I long for my reflection in your eyes - the image of someone with purpose and still chemically balanced. I'm looking in the mirror and I don't like what I see. and that's because of you. But now everyday is the same. Crushing my heart in my hands just to feel anything. Just to feel anything at all. How am I supposed to stay strong when I've never been? And I'm wondering what comes...
...next. I can clearly recall. Recklessly, I salted the earth around my heart. I spread myself so thin over so many years. Finding purpose. A heart warm enough. Living in recluse has embraced me with such comfort. Wasted years. Pointless tears. Maybe I'm better off? I thought I was better off. I did not expect a single thing to grow in a soil such as this. But there you are taking root and I'm glad that I was wrong. I sink in shallow, hollow home, drowning in myself. I never would have thought I'd find love in someone else.


Previously unreleased.
All lifetime proceeds of this EP will be donated to actiondignity.org & blackyouth.ca
Black Lives Matter


released June 14, 2020

Mike - Guitar
Tevin - Drums and Vocals
Zach - Bass and Vocals

Recorded and Mixed by Clay Francis
Mastered by Adam Mountford
Album Art by Kevin Stebner


all rights reserved



You Take The Bus When You're Dead Calgary, Alberta

No longer a band sorry. Check out some of us in "Still There"

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