Dark Days

We move through rain soaked streets like ghosts in search of our final resting place. Every moment feels strained like we've over stayed our welcome in someone else's home. When that which was exciting becomes dull and flavorless; what's a poor boy to do? What are ya gonna say now, this too shall pass? These are dark days, indeed. And as that light gets dimmer it becomes more clear what the next steps should be.

2010

The year we made contact... 












WITH A PILE OF SHIT.

New Tomorrow