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The Hot Lights

from Yeah​.​.​. by MAST

/

lyrics

Forged from a hive of social vagaries.

10:00 tele prompt. Tragedy could find…you. Scythes rip through dreams, leaving a sleepless sweating disease. Each channel becomes a conduit of blanketed white paired with sporadic images of turmoil. Borne from the edicts of cultural architect. "Power is not a means; it's an end."

credits

from Yeah​.​.​., released November 29, 2011

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tags

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MAST Providence

working class.

loud.

okay.

magic unicorns.

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