Alone, in the most content sense of the word. It’s almost Saturday. The rink is empty, which in this case just means there’s more room to spin:
LA’s Fantasy Island have kept a steady (and increasingly watched) cloud since that first avenue trip (and also confirmed that they are in fact, related to Therapies Son).
This particular fantasy island is only reachable by one avenue—as that contradiction might suggest, this is no traditional paved route. It’s more of a kaleidoscope current, appearing in surreal flashes, overheard or underwater, wherever the parade wants to go. Everything there is backwards, which might explain why something that “hurts so bad” would sound so sweet.
Anxious for another SOS from this duo’s soundcloud.