Wandering eyes, all men have
Yet the prose on their hands
Can’t do much for one another
For wandering eyes, they take a chance
Like a lonely bird sitting on a bench
With last night’s stench
Wandering eyes, they took me to yours
And I’m grateful for your eyelids didn’t close
My fingertips still getting moist
And suddenly, I couldn’t see anymore
For wandering eyes, they take a chance
Like a lonely bird sitting on a bench
With last night’s stench
Wandering eyes, they took me to yours
And I’m grateful for your eyelids didn’t close
My fingertips still getting moist
And suddenly, I couldn’t see anymore
And suddenly, I couldn’t see anymore
On this sprawling double LP, the South African drummer leads his band through a series of mournful and vibrantly melodic spiritual jazz compositions. Bandcamp Album of the Day Jul 6, 2020