Author: Ellis Walker

Notice the heartache of the lonely artist. Feel his weary sadness as he meanders through the dark forest.

He finds it hard to see the forsaken land of a tale told long ago. Overshadowed by the green namesake of a lie so low.

Who is that strumming near the cider palace? Perhaps she’d like a sip from the golden chalice.

She is but a whimsical mistress, admired as she sits for awhile upon my insistence.

The artist shudders as he thinks of the nocturnal pond of loneliness.

He wants to leave but she yearns for a thing that seems to always be slipping into the shadow of neglected pestilence.

The full length album, Schoënblintsjia comes out 2/22 via Baby Blue!

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La Femme is a French psych-pop outfit formed by keyboard player Marlon Magnée and guitarist Sacha Got in Biarritz. 

And now, a poem.

Roses are sad, violets are too, my only hope, is to melt into you. Orchids are white, ghosts are rarely blue, your smile is lovely, and so are you. Magnolias grow, with tiny buds of clay. The road is long, and so is the day.

Sunflowers reach, up to the night sky, as the red door awaits, the mockingbird cries. My eyes in her eyes. Her lips against mine. I melted like sunshine, and moved like a mime.

Foxes in hedges, surround the farm. Your body is slender, and so are her arms. Daisies are pretty and daffodils are mild, but the hibiscus flower will never fade out of style.

The day is warm, and so is your smile. My angel from Saturn. My nocturnal desire. Never leave, or I’ll drown in the wild.

An ocean so beautiful, lights up the night sky, the neon light burns a lucid hole through her eyes.

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Lucille Furs is a psychedelic indie pop outfit out of the Windy City of Chicago, Illinois.

And now, a poem.

Like a lucid rainbow, I watched euphrosyne laugh so i said hello. She gave her vibrant paint a quick shake and laughed until her belly stopped to ache. The only other sound was a filthy rat as distant birds and bees drew ever back.

The paint was blue and full of yellow but she had no time to keep the colors neat nor mellow, so after cake and an enormous amount of the late night fate — the sweetest of dreams visited her in the depth of sleep.

As she awoke from her soft bed with thoughts of sweet lullabies and unicorns in her head — she ate her jam with lots of bread, now ready for the lucid day ahead.

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how lonely and black is the lonesome sea

down into the darkness of the cosmic bosom of the marine

gently she goes — down to the terrene the amphibious the otherworldly

one cannot help but stop and look into the deep blue — nor shall one ever forget the cryptic and distant mood

pay close attention to the vessel for she is the most noble 

now the song of starry sadness is just the thing to get me wondering if the vessel really is a worthy thing at all

how lonesome is the cunning saltwater of green and blue

are you upset by how deep it is or does it tear you apart to see the cosmic ocean foaming at the mouth

how dreary is the fabled mountain of darkness

oh how the monstrosity sends a cold shiver down the spine

now pay close attention for the coastline is the most dangerous beast of the line

oh how the six-eyed goddess — who is always watching — makes you shiver at the fall of time