There is no identity
There is no fixed personhood
Just a crass corporeal
Structure of a thought
That is you
All that is true
What can you do
You attempt control of it
You can practice mindfulness
Hope to disassociate
From the burden of
Your desire
What you acquire
Is just a liar
Speaking in tongues
Parroting language in your lungs
But your blessed ignorance
Lets you sense a source of will
The illusion of a spark
That comprises shards
Of a soul
Not quite a whole
But that’s the goal
You will never unify
Doesn’t matter if you’re close
There is always space between
The atomic tics
In your mind
You’ll never find
Forever blind
Watching it back
All of your memories in black
I have sworn a thousand time
That the vision of myself
Is a picture of the real
But the doubting voices
Prevail
Images fail
They’re just too frail
And the source of happiness
Splitting individuals
Pairing souls of disparate
Origins into
The sublime
Unions in time
Force them to rhyme
Australian multi-instrumentalist Nick Griffith tempers luxuriant yacht-pop arrangements with lo-fi touches across the sunny "7am." Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 1, 2020
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