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Afterlie

from Apertures by Lower Forty-Eight

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lyrics

And I bet you set them straight with your piety and your guilt. There's nothing more to say when what's been said isn't real. And I just can't relax. Your poetry it sickens me. So let's just stop and think. If this was for real then there'd be some sort of sign from god. No god.
Ruined and accursed by fear. Straining to fight through a fog of tears. Endless misery keeps us in this tragedy, alone, scared and weak. Isolation spins a thread of death that cannot be crossed. You'll never get too close, you are stranded, scarred, alone, burning our home, atone.

credits

from Apertures, released July 28, 2005

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Lower Forty-Eight San Francisco, California

Phil Becker: drums
Andrew Lund: guitars; vocals
Grady Mutzel: bass (2003-2006)
Ian Swanke: bass (2000-2003)

San Francisco, CA

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