There is a wildly elusive moment of bliss
In the spaces between being told you are shit
I would openly suggest identifying the closest
And collectivly agreeing to meet if the sky opens
The Mountain Goats // Color in Your Cheeks
And we let the silence that’s our trademark make its presence felt
Come on in, we haven’t slept for weeks
Drink some of this, it’ll put color in your cheeks
I’ll be going home on Sunday.
I’ve spent the near entirety of my adult life running from the ghosts that inhabit the Appalachian zeitgeist. I’ve been far too proud and comfortable in an artificially pristine and sanitized reality. I allowed myself to be drawn away from the marrow of my intellect. I’m returning to the mountains with a new spirit for my own legacy, and the legacy of every soul that gives the hills breath. I come back to the mountains honored to be haunted.