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1. |
Holidays
02:52
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Holidays Shit
SS
Slonk Slonk
Thu 04/10/2018 04:10
Sent Items
To:
dan@breakfastrecords.co.uk;
josh@breakfastrecords.co.uk;
Save to OneDrive - Personal
Photo credit: Fenne Lily
STREAM LINK:
https://soundcloud.com/slonk/holidays/s-olfyZ
Holidays
Written, Recorded & Produced by Joe Sherrin 2018 Released 25th January 2019 on 7" Vinyl. Pre order: http://breakfastrecords.co.uk/shop/ Everything played by Joe Sherrin except: Violin - Zander Sharp
soundcloud.com
LYRICS:
Innumerable future selves lean to form an audience, keen to hear the result.
They’ll wait for hours to be betrayed –Restless.
Too scared to blink or speak at all,
I fumble everything for a home crowd - stuck in their thick berating din.
If they could speak they’d help me out:
Tell me what I’m supposed to do and think.
You’re a barricade of charisma; I don’t know how to talk to you
You’re a catapulted whisper splattering on flags of truce
I have allegiances to characters I am now too old to be
I spend the bulk of my free time pining, wishing & worrying.
It feels a lot like:
- Getting back from a holiday you liked;
- Reluctant small talk with a friend you were once much closer with;
- Reluctant small talk with a colleague you feel you know too much about.
It’s not ideal. It’s only fine.
It’s not how you feel but it’s all that you are, boy.
It’s a lot like:
- Waking up, when you’d rather be asleep;
- Having things to think about when you’d rather sleep, to dream.
It’s alarming we’re so calm
As we erode to lesser forms.
Far from ideal – we’ll say “it’s fine!”
It’s not how we feel it’s just all that we are now.
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2. |
Sharks
01:00
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Let the silence spiral into the bath, where the Balneum sharks circle round you. The silver slumber manifests and drops mast, it rips your oxygen mask so it can kiss you. The parachute that guides you flutters, lost.
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3. |
Strange
02:27
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Strange/Holidays Lyrics
SS
Slonk Slonk
Wed 05/09/2018 05:42
Sent Items
To:
kane eagle (kane.e@hotmail.co.uk);
https://we.tl/t-AR2kFhsve9
Holidays:
Innumerable future selves lean to form an audience, keen to hear the result.
They'll wait for hours to be betrayed, restless.
Too scared to blink or speak at all,
I fumble everything for a home crowd -
stuck in their thick, berating din.
If they could speak they'd help me out -
tell me what I'm supposed to do and think
You're a barricade of charisma,
I don't know how to talk to you.
You're a catapulted whisper splattering on flags of truce.
I have allegiances to characters I am now too old to be,
I spend the bulk of my free time pining, wishing and worrying
It feels a lot lot like:
Getting back from a holiday you liked;
Reluctant small talk with a friend you were once much closer with;
reluctant small talk with a colleague you feel you know too much about.
Its not ideal, its only fine,
its not how you feel
but it's all that you are, boy
It's alot like:
Waking up when you'd rather be asleep;
Having things to think about when you'd rather sleep, to dream. It's alarming we're so calm
as we erode to lesser forms.
Far from ideal, we'll say it's fine.
It's not how we feel it's just all that we are now.
It feels a lot lot like getting back
from a holiday you liked
Reluctant small talk with a friend
you were once much closer with
reluctant small talk with a colleague
you feel you know too much about
Its not ideal, its only fine,
its not how you feel
but it's all that you are, boy
Strange:
Feeding the starved opportunist
on a steady diet of fingernails and surrounding skin -
just enough to keep him quiet
I know i'm a little bit strange.
But I'll keep quiet and you don't have to say anything.
And this typhoon of bumbling ineptitude
might deflate to just a gust in this room
I'm getting better at leaving,
I'm a familiar sound in a colloquial din.
I am a compromise.
I know i'm a little bit strange.
But I'll keep quiet and you don't have to say anything.
Everything's on loan we are interim.
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