Hungry for all the wrong things
but the faith it draws her far from this town.
Footsteps as low as thunder,
as she runs into the night, a siren sounds
Yearning for all the wrong things,
he's pacing in the confines of his room.
Flesh flaming with desire,
all the guilt a jaded man could consume.
The 'no' echoes against the silence
but the girl is lone and suddenly entombed.
He was wrong.
But he was wrong.
Key thrown into the darkness,
assurance stolen by the thick of night.
Blood, tears and morals between them,
but the truth is out of mind and out of sight.
Morn dawns without a warning,
and the wounded, broken bird she takes flight.
But he was wrong
he was wrong.
You think you know me,
you think you own me,
you think you stole my voice
and buried it so deep in the night.
You thought you had me,
you thought you really had your way-
you thought that skeletons wouldn't rise to see the break of a day
but you were wrong
you were wrong
you were wrong
and now you're stuck in the same rut.
You were wrong.
You were wrong.
Hungry for all the wrong things,
but the faith it draws her far from this town.
Footsteps as low as thunder,
as she runs into the night, a siren sounds.
Kansas City trio Flooding draw out the more mystical qualities of slowcore and noise rock for a heavy sound that's less stony than doom. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 26, 2023