Alternative rock, Medium tempo, building, rocking, epic, emotional, alternates between hard rocking and mellow indie rock, Male vocals, electric guitar, bass, drums, acoustic guitar, wordless vocals
Once, you said, in our night bed as spirits fogged up the ground The vines of age will cloud your brain and bind you to your name. And the leaves will carry three: the father to father to son. As you lie in bed, and I lie awake, this evening Ill wade through vineyards. And as the demons arise, Ill wash the pigments of red to white. The generational trends to break, or will I carry them on?
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