Unfamiliar Ceiling: Chapter Viii Lyrics & Chords By The Postman Syndrome

The tide is coming in slow. The fools have all gone home. The night is restless and we are sleepless. The moon has turned to stone. She opens up the ground, beneath our bodies. ...read more

Instrumental ...read more

At the age of sixteen I grew out of hope I regarded the cosmos Through a circle of rope So I threw out my plans Ran on to the wheel And emptied my head Of all childish...read more

Carry me, up across the atlas Let it be Wash my hands or find me in open sea On and on, surely there is an end to this I've been left out I realize, I've landed on the other...read more

No disturbance could wake me. Observers are captivated By nocturnal projections Of my vivid imagination. Try as I might to recall the events of the night, Yet the deeper I hunt,...read more