Labrador Basin Broadcast

Entre agua caliente y una luna muy bajaHay un sepulcroA los dos los mandaron con regalosEl mundo se siente más quietoAños han sido borrados

Art is not interesting, because it's prepared No puedo seguir hablando inglés

You left a cylinder somewhere quiet and black We hushed as men used lanterns and nets

Calls that make your name shorter and tactile inspections of my hand

I can't over extend or not extend I can just extend

Sinceramente no creo que haya algo más gracioso,  Que el sonido de alguien corriendo en pantuflas

I see you through swell. Unloyal, warm, slightly away. It's terrifying to see a face within a face.

Dancing like an idiot in the kitchen. Barquito de papel. The smell of Humor 5. The smell of a cloth

Information filled meat... Spinella, spinella, spinella Recalling works wonders around what I want things to be.

You'll be a prowler, not an adventurer You've been given the appliance of uneasiness yet no function… Where's the fun in that?

I'm honestly still confounded by last Friday's “events”... Are we gonna have a meeting? I'm part of the chit-chat, but I'm not sure if I can even take a side...

There was something different about it. It was so simple. Not immediately, anyway...

I often wonder what things I can lean into, and which I should avoid.

Besides the obvious, Asking for your calls, comments, and questions... I'm concerned about your bodily recoil to this UHF.

So it ends, because it has begun. Once the lantern made an apparition, it became apparent... There is something in between.