Luke De-Sciscio performs a new song called "Winston" at Salon48 in Bath. The track builds around a diminished chord he's been using repeatedly, with lyrics that cycle through fragmented images of identity, family, and existential dread, returning often to being "in the balance" and the urge to set fire to dreams.
social media with me after this actual, like, physical moment in time and space, then this is the song you'll be able to hear, because this is the only one that I've sort of made public of the new bunch post-November 20th. This is called Winston. I'm getting too fond of that chord. I throw it in everywhere. Diminished.
Come morning on morning, I labor yawning, waking from slumber to visions of I. Relabor his foreman, venturing on hip, high over cold and keep boring the time. The jars are all shaded, color graded, from denim black faded to hungover jade. I'll keep listening in search of a christening. Jesus don't love me, but we're all here to listen online. Mother's baby, I'm halfway crazy, eternally gifted. And tirelessly lazy. I'm matter in motion, my own most devoted. Proudly owning my denial, I underhook the time, make a man of mine. See walls slide and disappear the lines. I'm bleeding from scripture. Death to the hipster. Years in the balance and no way to fix. Here I'm longer than most, still scared A bed of ghosts, have bread with my butter and savor the ghosts. My mother incarnate, not enough like my father. Wind's sun blows as sun leaves tracks unguarded. I'm dead in every raw shack, streaming from the floor crack. Fathering like Cru Shank, stealing from the blood bank, repping double corduroy, thinking too much in a Freud, probably suppressing having thoughts about undressing. Never arrive, never late, never one too late. You're never gonna make it, do you? Never gonna make a man out of me. Set fire to my dreams. I've had enough of dreams. Set fire to me, yeah. Longer than most, still scared. Dead of ghosts, have bread with my butter and savor the ghost. My mother incarnate, not enough like my father. When the sun loses some leaves, tracks some garden. What hangs in the balance? I hang in the balance. What hangs in the balance? I Hang in the balance. What hangs in the balance side? Hang in the balance side. What hangs in the balance side? What hangs in the balance side? Hang in the balance side. Hang in the balance side. Hang in the balance side. Hang in the balance. What hangs in the balance side? Hang in the balance side. Hang in the balance side. Hang in the by the side. I swear the future just eats itself and falls into the The second you face your just facing the sum of everything you've ever done.
