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There’s a nice man with a pipe smoking cavendish, vanilla
He is loving what I’m saying, that makes one in all Lake Villa
But as the sweat drips from my skin onto the face of my guitar
I hope I make my father proud, because he helped me find my start
And as the tender words ring down on apathetic ears of smokers
I can feel growing burden, that is weighing on my shoulders
It’s the fact that I’ve spent so much time crafting this small dream
But it leads down a long road that no one knows, not even me
And I’m promised to a woman that I love so truly, deeply
And I’m scared that I might let her down if I’m singing when she needs me
Every single time I play it’s a tug-of-war again
And I feel that I’ll be ripped in two if someone doesn’t win
*throat clearing*
I had written a poem to go here before but was left wanting more like a door that leads to a room aforementioned
of which you inhabited, lived in - sin, sin, sinned in - so malignant a figment of your own imagination, these words are the pigmentation of my soul
I’ll give it my honest ex-boy scout try and I’ll just hope that it makes me whole
Is this a rap? I’m not a rapper
I’m a writer, a fighter, collider, proprietor of fires and wires connected from my heart to my mouth
And it makes me spew things out that I don’t even have time to think about
I hope you know I love you, I hope you know I do - I hope you know when I tell you it’s alright it’s cause I’m faking my smile, too
I hate the pain that cancer leaves, I hate working grind and hate disease
And I can hear God asking - do you trust your money or me?
All I know is the quarters we cast - we’ll never get them back
But it was worth the wasted change because we drank the water that splashed
It was worth the wasted change because we caught the water that splashed
My name is Gabriel and I solemnly swear that I’m here for a reason
You can leave that name on your lips cause I promise you that this isn’t a season
You can tell me that my life is a failure - a poverty train that will run off track
But even if I play till all of the ivories break - I’m never coming back
I’m never coming back
There was a piano in my parents home
I spent my days on it when I was young
But I never wrote a single song
That didn’t hold a place inside my soul
Here’s to the depression of getting old
Here’s to the creasing in your papers fold
Here’s to the letters that I never wrote
Here’s to the fires that I should not have stoked
I burned an oak tree in my backyard
I bet that tree had to brace hard
Not to buckle with the world’s weight
But it fell when the axes came
There’s still a piano in my parents home
I cherish time on it, though I’m not young
Some days I feel that I have lost my soul
But I just pray that I don’t lose your love
I just pray that don’t lose your love


from I Understand, released June 22, 2016



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Hunter Dumped Us Here Cedar Rapids, Iowa

Heavy and emotional indie rock from Iowa. Get into it.

I Understand - debut full-length available June 2016.

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