Notes of Violate Spectates a Flatter of Male - Of Montreal

I know you so well that it’s fiction, got to get out of our head

My face is a dead link you won’t find me there

My eyes dead link

Absentee ballet zero for conduct all we used to be made out of glass

Glass and blood glass and blood not for…

For Tristeza… not for Tristeza

Trsiteza casting spells in your dead name is elastic

Her striking temperature according use to object

Extract the masculine germ from remote memory

Now that all my thoughts are phantom pains

Pains pains

I was a mad idea traced in the sand

I was a mad idea traced in the sand where misery is deify-able

I will protect you from this awful place

A horror poem unfolds and our love absorbs it