Still The Kettle Sings​-​original show music

by Mik

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There's a door I like to go through when the golden hour hits the sea. It's just a yard of fenced-in flowers, and idly creaking trees. But something about it's quiet space seems to sit outside of hectic time. It's my moment inbetween; it's my idle lullaby. And I sit atop the grass to slowly drink my tea. I know what I am and know what I'm not, if only briefly. If only briefly. And there's this time I like to go through, wove in dirt and vine and wood. Where someday I'll go for good. Dust amongst these earthly truths.
Lost in this pretty limbo a’screaming through your ears. These seconds thread like stinging nettles through your bones. The steps are endless minutes, the nights are endless years. You’re seeing shadows everywhere you go. And your mind is like a prism, memory a warping thing. Futility a lonely comfort the only melody you sing. It’s like one day you woke and the kitchen lights were too bright. Gravity reversed its hold and became a pretty lie. Sometimes chance replaces choice, chaos ruling like a king And yet, you still know what it once felt like to dream. And your mind feels caught in fire, doubt a dictator cruel. But maybe these days aren’t the only endings. And the beat of your heart is enough truth. ‘Cuz you didn’t think the lows could go so deep, the world seem like a shrinking thing. But you’ve been kicking through by the skin of your teeth. And it’s alright. Maybe you’re alright.
Sometimes I get lost in this mirror maze of selves. Got all these layers laid out like clockwork, for every conversations’ turn. Used to say “I’ll know who I am once I stop being a kid.” But I’m still just the cracked innocence clutching suits and shoes that are too big. And all this world seems built of boxes, mapped out in snapshot frames. And often people start to look the same. But is it ‘cuz of the faces we wear? Or the anxious desires we carry? Spent a lot of years looking for my name, which everyone else seems to know. And I insecurity makes me into a fool, but it’s my only consistent role. Yet, fuck all these clamoring narratives. It’s time I held the only pen. (I’m done with all this pretend even if it seems the only means to an end.) And maybe I’ve been found weighed and wanting. But enough of self-inflicted haunting. I claim my name, however much it changes. Maybe being human means being built of more than one narrative.
Heather 03:15
Caught my heart like wild magic You’re the one I’ll love till the end. You’re the melody fantastic humming in my bones and breath. I was just a lone bird winging cross this vast cosmic sea, with only the stars for company till you collided into me. And it’s like you exist outside of time I feel I’ve loved you my whole life. Before we spoke I knew just what it’d be like to hold your hand in mine. So let’s grow old together, dear. I’ll be your narrative and you’ll be mine too. Never mind the fickle doubts and fears all I need is lovely you. Used to believe what this world told me ‘bout all love’s fallen glories and all the fables’ broken happy ends. But you defy all the foolish convention I believed were the only chances. Taught me love’s truth is not just a fleeting dance.


released July 12, 2017


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Mik Denver, Colorado

Girl, 28, delivery driver by day, comics writing hermit and reclusive composer by night. Hails from the weird, lovely city of Denver, Colorado.

When not jamming sad songs with Trash Heap or writing humorously angsty mini-comics, can be found getting lost in Wikipedia tangents, aspiring to be a space pirate, and eating way too many jelly candies.
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