this house was built on top of broken bottles and our love spilled like wine down a throat. there was a mouth that never shouted but these ears never fucking listened. all good grace will die and I’ll bite right through my tongue to get to words I wish I had. I’ve watched your spiral, you’ve grown quiet and despondent now and I felt this blood thin, through every single word I wish I’d missed. now I can see that it stemmed from lust and a cold fuck. all good grace will die and I’ll bite right through my tongue, I’ll feel the blood cover up these teeth and watch my loathe come pouring. it didn’t stem from a cold heart or a warm fist but a boredom came and apathy set in and this house is not a home no more.
Kansas City trio Flooding draw out the more mystical qualities of slowcore and noise rock for a heavy sound that's less stony than doom. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 26, 2023