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cold cave - summer trenches lyrics
the name escapes me but the glow of the white and orange sign is still there. vividly. an all night grocery store on the border of two towns, neither one’s pretty side. there was this guy in a trench coat. on hot humid florida summer nights he was sweating in his fashion statement. every night, just taking it, not only from the baking temperature but from the entire town too. a throbbing gristle badge adorned the right breast. destroy all monstеrs was writ_ ten on the back in white paint. ovеr time, the jacket would collect more names, pins, and studs. the spike effect was all the more reflecting in the summer sun as he gathered and pushed shopping carts around the parking lot. he was always wearing sunglasses and headphones, this member of the art collective that held court in an abandoned haunted hotel, naturally entitled the bat cave. we spoke over an amateurish cigarette once
“you going to see alien s_x fiend down in ybor city?” “nah, i don’t think so.”
“you should.”
“uh, okay.”
the fluorescent glow of that parking lot and the nuance of shadows detailing a forgotten breed visit me quite often. forever i will wonder what would have happened if i listened to more “ceremony” and less “traitor” in my youth
_ max g. morton
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