Like a louder, less eerie-sounding, less heavily-bearded Fleet Foxes.
I want to lift my hands towards the sun
Show me warmth
Baby, won’t you show me warmth again?
And when I can feel with my sun hands
I’ll promise not to lose her again
And even if the morning never comes
My hands are blessed to have touched the sun
Catch Local Natives in Chicago at Schubas on Friday, May 14th.