On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man in a dusty black coat and a red right hand.
On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man in a dusty black coat and a red right hand.
Shut up, kiss me, hold me tight.
Anyone can tell you there’s no more road to ride. Everyone will tell you there’s no place to hide.
Watching the parade with pinpoint eyes full of smoldering anger.
Playful and orchestral, bombastic and pulsing, trippy and sultry.
It grooves and clicks and jumps like a fanciful anxious thought, beautiful and foreboding.