Last waltz or first dance? DEATH is the anarchist at heart clearing the slate and rewriting the history books without old-hat law and order. A phoenix with the weight of a red currant butterfly flapping its wings to spiral a typhoon on the tip of our tongues. DEATH is an aromatic spring clean clearing the taste beds to push giant daisies towards a golden afterglow. Unwrap DEATH from its carbonic cocoon. SKOL not SKULL.
To sunrises, sunsets and happily ever after blue skies ahead — ‘til DEATH do us part.
