Shiny Things from Impossible Sum by maxwell stern

Shiny things make everything so heavy. Shiny things are always tough to tell. Shiny things just make it hard to see if someone’s ready. Shiny things can be the hardest sell. So who’s got space for all of this? You’re stupid lucky now, to even have a space for a burden to be laid down. You’re all filled up with dark now, like some sick inverted star. Just freaking out in the Northeast Regional café car. Yes you are. I curse the current and the choices that it brings, drawing circles round my head like planetary wedding rings. The damaged country sings a plaintive song to me: a permutation of the good we’ve yet to be. And there’s so much left to become. I wanna add it all up to an impossible sum.

• Alternative
• Punk
• acoustic
• folk
• folk rock
• indie
• Philadelphia