I was raised by seven mothers, missing faces but paying rent
Times of fighting all concluded by atom bombs and governments
My paleness dotted by red, a head filled with sisters
And now I blister my headlands knowing that I miss her
A voice cries, begging not to squirm when you're fucked
From children to Klansmen, all want to be sucked
You are the chosen one, walking through the valley
Looking for a demon to pleasure in every sacred alley
Jack Goldstein's deeply personal exploration of love and grief is expressed here through a blend of emo and hyperpop. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 12, 2022