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This is a single from the EP "The Clouds That Airplanes Make" coming out this May through Sound Judgement Records

A special thanks to my friend Justus Proffit for helping me with this track. We wrote the song after a missed connection at LAX. Thanks for waking up early to drive me to the airport bud you rule.


when i die, don't bury me, just lift me up and breathe me in with your key
its alright, you can take from me. its the only thing i have to give

when they dim the lights i see more of you,
you give them a hand or something else you have

maybe next year, ill be less weird, and ill read all that you wrote.
maybe next time, ill feel just fine, wrap my hands around you're throat

when they cut you of it means nothing, just another friend that fades away

all those friends, all those friends you'll surely miss. In the end, they're just hands held on you're mouth, they're just held upon you're mouth.

you seek better words


released March 16, 2017
Justus Proffit-Lead Guitar
Adam Briggs-Drums
Drake Elliott-Everything Else

Mixed and Mastered by Geoffrey Schlemm



all rights reserved


WAISTER Portland, Oregon

plural -s
: a usually green or broken-down seaman stationed in the waist of a ship (as a whaling vessel)

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