Trying to reach down inside of my chest
Pulling out only the bits that are best
Try to find calm, though I’m not quite so sure that I have any left.
Shiny things, pretty things, perfect and new
Fear that I squandered them all before you.
Sweet little somethings so carelessly strewn about the floor of my tomb
Sometimes the words just can’t find their way out
Somehow get lost on the way to my mouth
I hope my Benedict eyes can convince you to guide me home, when I’m in doubt
That this place is my home
Don’t mean the mortar and stone
‘Cause I damn sure know, if these wall could speak, they’d be cursing like a sailor,
Laughing like a madman, shedding a few tears
So let’s build me up fresh.
Let’s forge me a heart.
In the hole in my chest,
Take those broken bits left,
Melt them down and restart.
I am the hammer and the forge
I am something out of nothing
I am stronger
I am better than before
Let’s build me up fresh
Let’s forge me a heart
Lay regrets down to rest
Lay your head on my chest
It’s not mine, now, it’s ours…
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Erudite chamber pop that hearkens back to the elegant and experimental production of the 1960s, swinging from melancholia to playfulness. Bandcamp New & Notable May 13, 2016
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