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lyrics

The thing Zora holds is carved from bone. The object seems familiar to the Bog Hag, and yet...
"For your hair," our heroine tells her, holding out a trembling hand.
Tentatively, the hag reaches down with oversized finger and thumb. A clasp engraved with amateur knotwork. A pin of bone to hold it in place. She remembers the face of the swineherd boy who carved it for her. This is hers. Or it was. Long, long ago.
"Here," says Zora, taking a step toward her, "let me".
The hag nods slowly and turns her back. She tilts her face skyward, still holding the clasp before her eyes. A tangle of dripping copper curls tumbles to carpet the steps. Zora gathers them up, divides them into three. Climbing slowly, she braids the hair into a rope-like plait; a gigantic version of her own. As the girl works, the goddess of the bog remembers. The time before. When she was a girl, like Zora.

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from HDK 96 † Hog Maiden, released February 1, 2022

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Heimat Der Katastrophe Milan, Italy

DIY label focused on ambient punk, minimal-synth, dungeon-drone, wartime music and post-nuclear wave. Managed by a creative punx collective from Milano city.

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