for every page i write i always tear another out
because the words don't look the same way anymore
they're strangers left forlorn in scribbles floundering about
between the blue lines just like tiny thunderstorms
i spot a moving figure on the threshold by the door
you're there for just one or two seconds & you're gone
i trace your muddy footprints out into the early morn
& let myself melt into the vermillion sun
oh those eyes are like the sun sometimes
i see you blinking through the branches of the pines
oh it kills me on the empty nights
when the dusk fades into darkness & i'm bleak inside
a little place like spider webs spun on the ceiling light
is where my fleeting spirit's hiding from my mind
just trying to fight this helplessness behind the bedroom blinds
on summer days when beatific visions shine
but i spot a moving figure on the threshold by the door
you're there for just one or two seconds & you're gone
i trace your muddy footprints out into the early morn
& let myself melt into the vermillion sun
Two dozen 12-string acoustic improvisations that feel undeniably haunting, like lost transmissions from ancient Appalachia, rediscovered. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 17, 2022
The band's latest project includes twenty-eight new short songs that clock-in at no longer than just under three minutes. Bandcamp New & Notable May 15, 2020
A riveting jam session from Pittsburgh, Pa. folk band Wisbands, who infuse classic Americana with jazz and psychedelic rock. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 15, 2021