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Worlds Made Of Words
03:43
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Look at me
Fresh and feeling
Like a dead poet on ice again
Stuck in circles
Drifting through empty
Subconscious without an end
I don't know if anyone else
But I could understand
Just what it means
To devour my own heart
As it convulses
With the sea
Keep your head
There's nothing gloom will get you
But trouble now
Keep you read if
There's nothing left to save you
From these worlds
Made of words
I don't know if anyone else
But I could understand
Just what it means
To devour my own heart
As it convulses
With the sea
Keep your head
There's nothing gloom will get you
But trouble now
Keep you read if
There's nothing left to save you
But these worlds
Made of words
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faux furrs Chicago, Illinois
Plucking petals from the inflorescence of neo-psychedelia, dreampop, shoegaze, and garage roots, Faux Furrs are an ever-
evolving organism. Painting colorful waveform murals across ripe and raw soundscapes.
On their sonic expeditions they keep it fun and weird but always real.
Attune your mind(s) while stepping into intriguing new dimensions of this world.
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