Disposition shaky hands, tired eyes and hearts not far behind.
Everything is burning down like beliefs we held strong, and places we left behind.
When the smoke clears, will we still stand? Will the starts still shine?
Will our home still be our homes, or did we lose ourselves in the last embers light?
Way up high, the things we believed, believe in a lullaby.
Cut the head off the king and the kingdom is ruins. Our health is waining so much,
but we can't pick it up.
Writing words my mouth's afraid to say.
Copacetic, i'm pathetic, romanticize and wash away.
There is no golden age, no time to stay, the past is in the past, the present here. And the future, it walks away.
And you can never get it back. You can never take it back.
I remember songs my mother used to sing to me about blue birds and rainbows and wishing up stars.
My troubles never seem to melt away no matter what I sing.
We all wish upon stars but our dreams don't come true.
I see skies of blue but there's nothing way up high.
Toronto band Respire deliver a post-hardcore tour de force on the largest scale possible, orchestrally rich and incessantly uncompromising. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 6, 2021