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lyrics

i don’t have your religion but being born again every morning’s a waste of time
but then i never thought we were the kind to have children
and i don’t pray but i silently scribble my bile on the walls before I go to bed
dawdling over hangovers that just remind me that I’m not almost 19 again
you know you were always happier when you thought you were
but i wander the living rooms of lost innocence pretending I like the clothes I wear
reimagining how my lips would dry from being closed too long
breathing even deeper when i look in the mirror
listlessly dreaming about an easy drowning-in-warm-soapy-water domesticity
but if you ask her she’ll tell you i’m still sulking
dripping in someone else’s burial shroud and wishing myself lovesick
do you remember when you woke up again and it wasn’t clutching at your skirts?
drape me in the clothes you bought out of necessity because you’d grown older
and watch the autumn breeze flinch as it hits my lungs again

i can’t tell you if it’s too late
you wouldn’t listen anyway
i just want to go home
but i couldn’t say how many times i’ve been
stopping and starting over and over
clutching at what could never have been mine
a list of objects drifting further away
to be collected to be lost again

i still remember the things I wasn’t supposed to hear
drifting through my bedroom wall
but now all i know is what used to be
dying when the sun comes too late

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Red Rosa London, UK

A post-punk band from South London.

Thomas Whittaker
Ben Tudor
Edward Wilson

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