Nowhere Pilgrim from Purple Barceloner by Tom Hymn

It's the spirits you threw at my house. Begging me to come out. A trail of Spanish plums. Her Majesty's shill and shake. Those Hong Kong hips that twist. Those vermillion lips I miss. Those lips I used to kiss. From the crumble in your tracks I can see you're not turning back. All the little yellow arrows that you leave wherever you go. And though they lead to a wall, is it the wall you're looking for? You're the Dark Saint of the Path. You know dark ain't always so bad. The both/and. Your supply and my demand. My demand and you're surprised. Are you a nowhere pilgrim? It's not a race to the end...... You and me and the tangerine dream like a carrot on a stick. We awoke to find everybody gone so we just stayed in bed. I couldn't find my way out of town, so many arrows but no exits. Like a lost plane on a flat earth, how did we end up like this? An ouroboros forming in-between the sheets we were both chasing tail. Octopal lovers in the middle of the night my tentacles running through your hair. I wanna run but you want me to stay. How much can we bear? A true test of this pilgrim's heart. Where to go there is nowhere there is nowhere. It's not a race until the end of your world.

• Folk
• Punk
• grunge
• slinky
• world music
• Grand Rapids