Burst Apart by The Antlers

It is a rainy spring day in NYC. I walked from 60th and 3rd down to my office in SoHo listening to Burst Apart by The Antlers. Perhaps the perfect spring album. A driving and sometimes sleepy beat simultaneously enhance and hide the rich lyrical gems.

If I never get back home,
There’s no garden overgrown,
No widows in the walls,
No widows left alone,

No shirts to hang or fold,
No kid out in the cold,
No widows on the walls,
No widows on the phone.

If I’m stuck out here alone,
If I’m stranded here all year,
With just nothing left at home,
No widows disappear.

If the wheels jump off the road,
There’s no widows left to know,
No perfect love above,
No punishment below.

When they shake, say the wings won’t break.
When they shake, say the wings won’t break.

Give it a listen: