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    The 5th Brook Pridemore album, on high-quality, virgin vinyl.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Brook Pridemore's Gory Details via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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Ruthlessly, electric, cold-pwned, common sense-deficient, I collect my severance, smile, and wave goodbye. Mumbling uncertainty shaken, like a Polaroid, I taxi to the carpark in the sky. There was someone in my room, last night, who made me feel at home, and it was everything I could to go alone. But, if you're like me, you run like hell and get to see the world, until you find yourself in Brighton, missing a girl who never even noticed you were gone, because you're almost always gone chasing bets on reds and greens. So if you can't build foundaries, shucks, you might as well be happy, even if you end up lonesome in between. And if someone pumps your blood, tonight, and you don't feel alone, you should remember, kid, what's in your blood's your own. And if you're like me, you travel light and get there in the end, and you are always within arm's reach of a friend. But, hey: c'mon, just listen for a minute. You know my voice is low and weak. But I was middle of the sentence, when you started to bleat, bleat, bleat. You don't deserve him, and you know it. You're not fooling anyone. Somebody send in Henry Gibson, cause I'm not having any fun. If I could see myself in primers, would I feel like I feel today? How could I ever tell my younger self that it'd be okay, when I'm still looking over shoulders, and I'm in poor and failing health? How could you ever have the balls to kid yourself? But I'm not going crazy, I'm in Georgia, trading shut eye for a midnight run to cotton-copy sand. It's a moonlit night, by proxy, not as bright a light as vibrant plankton trapped, like diamond dancers, in our hands. The kid said, "They only feed at night, in shallow floes like ours," and there had been a hundred incidents, so far. But if you're like me, you dive in head first, straight into the brine, and though you always come up scratched, you're mostly fine. But, then, some stupid grabbed my ankle, and I jumped in shock and fear. Oh, E: I hadn't thought of you in years.


from Brook Pridemore's Gory Details, released June 26, 2014



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