Shoot
Dead petals down the curb
A kind of party with no guests
This quiet season of unrest
Dad
Draw me a cat again
The real ones run is all they do
Even you keep your distance too
Found
This heap of nouns and verbs
Already trampled many times
A sheet of unsurprising rhymes
See
What happend to the mind
I said sneering to myself
Wishing for glory, not for health
Hey
Forget what I just said
You'll see me smiling through a mask
I'll do anything that you ask
Run, hide, seek til you're tired
And heft you up
When we have no time left
credits
from Bottommost,
track released April 5, 2024
Guilhem Flouzat and Isabel Sörling
Based around the question “What is trust?” the latest from Michele Thomas is a bewitching combination of jazz and soul. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 27, 2022