Smoke, leather and cocoa powder.
Peppery milk chocolate grows slowly, endlessly, with maple and balsam and kerosene.
This could be worn by a wounded-football-hero-turned-reclusive-lumberjack when he decides to clean up nice.
He has no clue that he’s sexy AF.
It fades after a long day to an herbal kiss on sweaty skin, left with creamy lip balm.
This song has that same sweet roughness. (Seven Nations is an awesome Celtic-American folk-rock band.)