Robocobra Quartet
album of the year
Select language to translate this lyric
another year came around
take stock of what's left in lost and run aground
sachets scattered on a tray
let the help take it away
third-person fugue state
hibernate for december, when frost bites down
a season drowned and then frozen as a placard, spelling out in script: 31
days
set
to
fuck
you
up
hard.
four months on, that creeping sense of dread turns numb
spring has sprung and the world stays deaf and dumb
come along for a dry run - this one's just for fun.