from by Jacob Hutto

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Sick to my stomach,
Breezy and contained.
Well I loved you more with your fresh cigarette,
In a toxin flame,
Oh, what a shame.

Are you a patron?
A saint to keep me safe,
A saint to keep me sane.

Are you indifferent?
'Cause things won't go my way.

But the novocaine,
Tells me differently,
That things will be okay.

X in the dosage,
Ease up on the brain,
My thoughts are just inane.

This my last summer,
A bummer I abhor.

Your desperate decor is something I wished I lived for.
Your emotional warmth,
Bubbling and forming discourse.

Whisking and warned,
I'm a mess to my friends,
But I'm the best to them.
Well I've got the ropes,
Hit the porch floor as it shackles my name.
Well you don't wanna talk,
It is all my fault,
I am just so ashamed.
Well I've got to go,
Here's my goodbye note.

My Name.


from Into The Storm., released June 7, 2017



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Jacob Hutto Spring, Texas

A New Orleans-born, Spring-based experimental musician, with singer-songwriter tendencies.

Owner of Trite Ice Records.

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