Some days you dream of going home, and it doesn't hurt. The ever present throb of kicking over a memory of a place that doesn't exist anymore is swallowed up by the nostalgia. Some days you close your eyes, and pretend you're falling asleep in the back of your parents car and you'll be home soon. This is for those autumn days. When everything is dying, and new, and yet always familiar and old.

11 tracks