She Dreamt of Planes

from by Lilac

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I carved you a tombstone, for the hot cherry sky
It fills me with hope that it won't return
From sunrise to sundawn, we walked along the pier
The clouds confess the sun's gone, the light has disappeared

I found myself falling, headfirst to the ground
Steadfast the victims following my path

Make choices quickly, the world is getting small
Some speak of winter and some speak of fall
None of it really matters, we're still chasing fog
Some burn like torches, some fall like empty logs

I found myself falling, headfirst to the ground
The wailing of sirens became a pleasant whisper
As my world keeps spinning to the rhythm of the sound
I find myself falling every time, every time


from .​.​.​out of the dead land, released December 24, 2016



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Lilac Piaseczno, Poland

We play music and tell stories of men, fish, and time; a Poland-based trio dabbling in indie, self-proclaimed pioneers of the post-folk genre.

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