Wages from Ailments by Wolves & Machines

Back home we were far from saints. Only our fears made us stay. The idle idols remained on the pedestals we made. Currents of currency flood our complacency. And I don't love anything the way these men love their greed, but I just can't leave. I'll come back for you someday to untangle the mess that I made. You'll say "This season has drained me." I'll lay down, rest my eyes, and finally sleep. The cadence keeps our wounded feet marching right in time into the sea. The nomadic life that we married keeps us restless and weary. The skeletons that we buried stay sustained by our worry. Back home we didn't fit in our own skin. We lived on minimum wages. We're here to find our own balance and make our children proud again. That place, it broke my throne and tried to draw praises from my lips to summon awe of its vastness before I sailed on the vastest. Never I minded the bridges, never I minded the sea. I held fast in the everlasting race by my own choice and thee.

• Rock
• Saginaw