Lead single from our third LP "867", out October 27th.Stream on Spotify: open.spotify.com/album/1AXGqOnCHM0EnDGZndaKZK

Watch the music video on YouTube: youtu.be/-JAlxu76X7I

Stream on Apple Music (TBD)

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Written and produced by Ezekiel Dukart and Cole Buchinski.

Cole Buchinski - Electric Guitar, Drumkit, Noise

Ezekiel Dukart - Bass Guitar, Jingle Bells, Noise, Metal, Vox, Timpani

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Artwork by Unibrawn

Mixed and Mastered by Ezekiel Dukart

Thank you Kian and Anthony for helping us record drums for this you da all time goats

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Before machinery could cut to an infinitely precise decimal

Before computers could process work for statisticians

In the time of sticks and animals, the moon was the only perfect circle

Faultless in its pure untouchability

But now with satellites and telescopes

You can see the ridges and craters that roughen what was once round and perfect

Thousands of impacts revealed along the face

Was turned into a thick piece of rock in outer space

When I was young, I understood so little about myself

And though I am smarter now, I am marvelled by less of the world

Where things are gained, something else must also be lost

A great demystifyer

Before all things could be recorded anywhere and at any time

And before pavement covered a third of your city

And in the time of deadly medicine, the stars were the only proof of more

They told truths, the future and the past of all people

But now, the sum of all knowledge sits within a space

With few true unknowns unprovable and unfalsifiable

And stars now decorated by science and math

Turned into hydrogen and helium gas

There's an airplane wreck that crashed headfirst into the west side of the bank

A DC3 that fell out of the sky, now patiently sat

Then government came and blew it up into bits of electronics and metal

And spread it around and made it twisted, unscrappable

A stock of weeds growing over unused garage doors

A patch of grass breaking through a rural tennis court

The marks of horses hoofs in Victoria city asphalt

A rat-shaped hole in Chicago concrete sidewalk

I fantasize about my house reclaimed by invaded space

Of being overcome by hushed trees and wild grass and with animals building small homes inside the walls with pieces of its insulation

With fire spilling through one day and burning it back to nothing

And in a few million years when I arrive here again

A great recursion