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Scatological Imperative

from Self​-​Love by Trough

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lyrics

I can't see a thing...
Sound of dresses tearing
Round my head, swirling.

This house keeps shadows in its pockets just like knives:
A stranger summons me to attend their side.

I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't move.

I'm trying to talk, my mouth is frozen shut with cloth.
Dust rising in a cloud, windows thick with moths.

I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't speak.

The sound of bells in the fields
Morning dew on the sills
My tongue is dead in my throat

This house has a cistern.

That gate is always closed. That gate is always closed.

credits

from Self​-​Love, released May 29, 2019

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Trough Oakland, California

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