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The Lines We Sear

from This Is Funeral Folk by THOMAS BEL

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lyrics

Empty days of the thickest regret,
insistant negative wait.
Broken days of the sickest stay,
dependancy impossible to say.
For all the lights we killed and all the nights we sealed.
Unfurl sighs from within, secrets need a release.
The lines we sear, the hate we give, the hopes we fear, the joy we steal. They will lead me to death.

credits

from This Is Funeral Folk, released November 30, 2015

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

THOMAS BEL image

THOMAS BEL Toulouse, France

Sad folk
Experimental
Dark drone
_______________

Releases music on :
Brasov
Cloud Chamber
Distant Voices
Titania Tapes
Has released music on :
Annexia
Invisible Birds

Dances with birds at night.
Writes poetry.
Takes blurry photographs.
Shots art films.

Founder & owner of Distant Voices record label.

See also :
Jzovce
Misery
Nära Livet
We Are A Ritual ... more

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