This time we were staying at Bill`s farm. It was a desolate place strung on threads of starvation beneath an azure sky. First time I saw a cow skeleton laid out like a broken ship in the middle of a parchment field. This was desolation row…
Bill was always loading up -- shooting up the place. Joan was on a dozen bennie inhalers a day. She was stick thin, wasted, face like an empty page. Beautiful. She never slept -- not ever.
One night I woke up with the moon. That New Orleans moon was like a goddamned searchlight busting its way into my room.
I looked out the window. They had this haunted tree in the yard -- huge thing with nightmare arms -- just standing there waiting to get ya.
Joan was out there. She had this hundred-year old broom. She was scraping lizards off the tree. Hundreds of `em: green lizards. But they were silver in the moonlight -- like priceless salamanders.
Joan was hyper -- scraping those lizards off that tree.
She came back inside. And lizards climbed back up that tree and just hung there like so many jewels in that steaming southern night.
I stood and watched the moon -- I couldn`t sleep. I could hear Joan wheezing downstairs. The striking of a match. I reached up and covered the moon with my hand. And then I closed my eyes.
Mystical new single from Australian psych project the Dandelion features twisting Farfisa lines, ghostly vocals, and spaced out atmosphere. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 16, 2018