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lyrics

An architect of empty lots loves gum specked sidewalk polka dots,
And asphalt too, in slo-mo waves, unbreakable and delicate.
White cube.
What is this?
The future holds the past revised in simple code for builders eyes.
And from a cliff the rebar ties itself into an oxide tide.
White cube.
What is this?
The skyscrapers are howling mines vacantly whistling at night.
In subharmonic pitch devise a plan to outlast human kind.
White cube.
What is this?

credits

from UNKNOWN SESSIONS Anacortes, WA 2013, released September 19, 2013
Gregory Campanile - Drums

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Filardo Los Angeles, California

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