don’t mind me, I’m impossible to please
stacks of unpacked bags collapsed my ceiling
yesterday was another time
when I threw away the pulp and ate the rind
then I fertilized a captain's chair
as charming as falling down the stairs
I am not the one who ever cared
I try to get away for a while
but end up in the drink
I dried my bones our toasters stuck on turbo mode
come on in, we're cooking scorpion
staying up all night
by myself is pretty tight
until the morning comes
I like to think about cleaning up
while nothing doing in the parking lot
then I feel the squeeze of
accumulating new debris
rearing up to throw me off
you fucking slob, god damn
gotta get a mop
I can’t believe someone
paid in full to let me breathe
all these shrimp walk around like prawns
bred like bottom feeders in artificial ponds
Tightly wound post-punk with splashes of new wave; heavy on twangy riffs, phased-out melodies, and understated vocals. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 2, 2023