MERIDIAN

These are the nights that never let us sleep. In the cold panic of the street

and the hot smother of a bedroom kiss, the nights are wild and alone,

their sleep forgotten like childhood.



One man rises in the morning and begins a double life, a double cross on Atlas arms. One man, with patience and discipline, carves his art into wood and skin. One man is moved by the music and the robins flock to his sill. And one is a smoking ghost that never left the night.



These are the days that Atlas bore. Three others rode beside him. Across the Meridian and into the sea, the music they make cuts deep into the earth, digging out the sinews of human emotion; rises out of the darkness and water, and smashes the land with bombastic aplomb.



Coursing the lines of blood in a palm: Fate, Love, and Life are pushing through the hand that reaches out, takes hold and grabs the sound by its wisps.



Listen To Your Breaking Heart



Murder In A Small Town