Hope for coming back to infinity when we had nothing left,
But few cubic centimeters in our chests.
I would shed my skin so I were closer to you,
Living souls are sensitive to fate and it moves them apart.
For ourselves we have treaded the path,
For ourselves we have nowhere to come back.
To live in your shadow and
To hear how heart is dripping into hands,
It feels like we've losted
Buried and mourned unto each other.
This morbid mourning
Will always disarm.
On Sannhet’s latest album, produced by Peter Katis (Interpol, The National), their heaving instrumentals have new depth and breadth. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 19, 2017