Did you wake up to the thunder of the dead streets down below? / Did you hear the wind a-howlin‘ through some demon radio? / Oh no, I know it’s so hard to go (Alejandro Escovedo)

Well some day I hope to find / That land of funny wine / Where the coffee grows on the wide oak trees / And those sugar coated mountaints in the spring begin to melt to sweetest stream / Reached night, the starlight and the sea / Together form eternity / And the wind moves […]

Nothing soars like falcons it’s all paper planes / Nothing stings like thistles and nothing floods like rain / Nothing roars like fire when you’re standing on your own / No shelter from the coming storm will ever feel like home (Darlingside & Caitlin Canty)