I ride on the whims
Of the evening wind
And move like a hopeful prayer
Through the tall grass
That steals my breath from me
But will not shoot my heart
With a sculpted point of view
I still haven't learned
How to convey a feeling
But the grasses weave a cradle
For my lonely gold locket
And my wounded hope
Is held tenderly
In the arms
The arms of the fields
My trembling hands
Steady as I wander
Neath silhouettes of trees
And as I tread, a wind sweeps in
A graceful calm
And my heart belongs to the fields
A woozy and delirious psychedelic beat tape from Oakland producer mejiwahn, with 17 songs full of texture and color. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 8, 2018