It’s been another year crossed off in escape.
Indifferent and exhausted.
We left our badges buried deep beneath the sand-
you just press your head against those glassy grains.
The tide keeps rolling in. The tide keeps rolling.
I came to, choking up salt,
drifting farther than I ever should have been.
Theres no direction in this fog.
Still I drift along.
We don't have time to count the stars
but we're constantly reminding ourselves
just how fucking small we are.
I came to, choking up salt,
drifting farther than I ever should have been.
Theres no direction in this fog.
Still I drift along.
Dennis (guitarist/signer of the hideout) and his father in law Andy do weird fun folk and somehow convince other people to be part of it. As 2020 as it gets. The Hideout