I thought the room was expanding,
But my eyes were just shrinking,
And everything I held in my hands fell out.
I can't see the TV,
The picture is blurry,
And everything I see is black and white.
My teeth are cracking,
But my head is spinning,
My glasses broke and bloodied up my eyes.
The carpet is growing,
But my head, it is spinning,
No matter what, I won't move from this spot.
No one wants to shake hands with me cause I got warts on my fingers,
And I got that baby fat to boot,
If only I'd been given someone to talk to.
Why is it I always have to call out your bluff,
When you tell me life's a pair of jeans that shouldn't be cuffed?
And my eyes are playing tricks on me, but oddly enough,
They were right when they saw through your outer layer of fluff,
All the movies I remember from m-my childhood,
Were just carbon copies of copies copped by Hollywood,
Now I'm trying to figure out why people find us familiar,
And I'm thinking it's cause our handwriting's always been similar.
No one wants to shake hands with me cause I got warts on my fingers,
And I got that baby fat to boot,
If only I'd been given someone to talk to.
In Charlie's words, this record is like travelling "all around the world (and the Mid-west) in just 36 minutes!" He's not kidding. I can't identify half the instruments he used, but they sound great. Kenny Hoffman
I often consult Ryan about my own recordings. Listen to his most recent EP to find out why. The arrangements! The humungous synths! The layers! The songwriting! I couldn't do any of it. Great stuff. Kenny Hoffman
The Australian folk-pop singer tackles deconstruction, her Christian childhood, and sexuality on her infectious sophomore album. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 14, 2023