1. |
Get Drunk, Book Flights
04:24
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One bleak night in February walking along the Burnley streets, tears streamed down faces on the corner void of traffic. Post-7-Eleven coffee stops to keep them warm, saw sitting ducks down by the river. Bare feet on asphalt, a windy summer. Saw sitting ducks down by the river. They said, “Hey mother, I kissed a boy last week in my car, safe from the breeze.” Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Or would you tell them they were crazy? Bare feet on asphalt, a windy summer. Saw sitting ducks down by the river. Bare feet on asphalt, a windy summer. Dust storms and leaves across the gutter. They said they’d take a girl home to meet you. Would it really matter? It should never matter.
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2. |
Hagan
03:13
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Another concrete sidewalk, another patch of grass, to you, they were new worlds to run away to. I still miss the sound of your voice in the mornings with the pale yellow glow of the sun as blurred circles through the leaves. We spent those warm days strewn across the floor, your footsteps firm against the brick-laid porch and we were singing with the sirens. The leaves draped themselves around us as we got up so you could find fresh green to lay your head upon. We made our way past street signs and letter boxes on the other side of the estate and you let me walk you home. You didn’t hesitate.
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3. |
17
05:10
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We took turns running in our shadows, the library stamps in our books and on our hands of dates long gone, like the bones in the dirt by the swimming pool. I see the stars in you, glistening in the night sky, speckled beyond the gaps of clouds. I see the storms in you, collisions in the raindrops, collisions in the raindrops. I watched you press on past the whispers of “you’re not doing enough.” We thought we were stronger, but you can’t quantify your worth by compliments or numbers, or frosted impressions of what is deserved. You’re absurd, I’m incredulous. Paint dripping down the tips of your fingers. You are hopeful and I’m preposterous. “You don’t have to believe it yourself.” And you say the most beautiful things.
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4. |
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I wish you were closer than a sunset away but luck would have you next to me just as I leave this place. I wish you were closer and airports were less prevalent. Your empty bottles in my sink, the light through your curtains. There’s a sunset between us, a whole ocean for you to swim through. There’s a sunset between us and its light reaches me before you. And I will run to the skyline.
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Hazel recommends:
Tye sings like an angel on this and it's definitely their most dynamic and coherent album yet. Pat really shines with his harmonies too. Everyone could do with more harmonies and this record nails it.
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