phahadron

"The morning grey ignites a twisted mess of foreign shapes and sounds/I wish the ceiling was the ground/I'll send you flowers made of silent tiny pieces of the sun/To help me make up for this one/While you send me tidal waves of love when you're alone and I can't remember what you do/To find a way to turn the signal back to Heaven sounding blue and bring me, faithful, back to you."

Hum, "I Hate It Too"
from the album, "You'd Prefer an Astronaut."














































"I miss my sister.
Why'd she go?"