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We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Fiction

from Routines by Satellite Twin

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lyrics

Superstition has a way of being echoed in the grave.
Cancel all your plans today. They're gone, they're gone, they're gone.
Every sentence left behind gets paragraphed into a shrine.
Pencil in your alibis. They're gone, they're gone, they're gone.

SUCH INNOCENCE IS FICTION,
A SLOW GLORY WRAPPED IN SENTIMENTAL EXHIBITION.
I KNOW HOW IT HURTS TO BE ALONE.
NOT ALL ARROGANCE IS FICTION WHEN YOUR STORY'S ENDING.
WHEN YOUR STORY'S ENDING, DON'T SUFFER THE CONTRACT.
I KNOW HOW IT HURTS TO CRUMBLE

Instead distance slips away, sheep-clothed and kicking down the gates.
Cancel all your marches now. They're gone, they're gone.
In place, stake your claim to shine a simple star to light the sky.
Order all those trumpets down. They're gone, they're gone, they've sounded.

All tradition has a way of being canceled and replaced.
Echo all your fears away. How long, how long, how long?
It's too mentioned how the weak hibernate in jealousy.
It's too fictional here.
It's too fictional here.

credits

from Routines, released November 20, 2021

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