→ This song is about chasing something in memories, or rather, yearning for a misremembered simpler time. Within our Witch Post, "memory" details become fantastical. In many ways, this song is a love letter to Dylan and I's differing experiences on the West Coast; coyotes, beach glass, driving home at 3am, stuck on the freeway staring at the sunset... I think of each of us alone as these fawns stumbling through Hollywood grime and glitter.

→ I wrote this as a teenager as an ode to an afternoon at the county fair. I was trying to capture this collage of images and feelings; dropped cotton candy in the dirt, you pet the cows with the pretty eyes, name the rabbits, hang out with your sisters, you all get sprayed with a hose by the carnies, you also all almost throw up on the tilt-a-whirl, you worry about what's going to happen when you graduate high school, you're scared to make out, the sun sets and the bugs orbit the floodlights, the neon turns on and you ride the tilt-a-whirl again. Dylan added in the end when the songs get heavy, and it feels as if you've just been intoxicated by the artificial gravity of a county fair ride. Then everything blurs into the riff.

→ This is a song about two people becoming tangled together for a moment in time. These characters came to mind while I spent time in the town where my late grandpa lived in Upstate New York, a few late summers ago. To me, I kept thinking about the parallel small town in Montana that I grew up in. Living around the same people, you see them hook up with each other, hate each other, be friends, worry about one another and so on. Sometimes new people pass through and get tangled in it all. I created a fictional place - a Last Best Place, a Dead-End Dreamland with a dude a little like James Crumley's Sughrue who meets a girl and they have a milk expiration date romance. In my real life, I'd seen this guy at a local supermarket who had a bear paw tattoo on his hand and also a massive scabbed-over gash in his arm. Ultimately, it's an adventure song.

→ It's late January, it's 4pm. The world is grey, and you embrace it because you feel grey inside. You sit in the parking lot and watch trash drift between the tyres. You sit in the cold and try to shut out the grey inner voice. All of a sudden, things shift to purples and blues in the last of the sun.

→ 'Worry Angel' is about the dialogue between the chaos side of your brain and the rational side. One minute you're superstitious and obsessive, and the next you're talking yourself out of it. It's like a lucky keychain that you can't go anywhere without. It's picking at your skin, an uneasiness that's hard to pinpoint. It's a python that curls around your neck and makes you into a bitch. It's a pixie taunting you every time you close your eyes. It's crows that caw on your walk home. It's a sense of being watched. It's sweaty palms. It's not real. It's all real, and sometimes it's all just because we feel alone.