Baking in the heat, I crack the blinds and squint my eyes
My view still stayed the same
A multicolored plastic playground sits alone in fear
of the great sun's awful flame
Impervious to heat, you stand in line and look around
at all those patient ones
And though their fates are the same as yours, you know you won't be back,
else your stomach knots won't come undone
Ben, every time I see you, you've got burn marks on your back
The repetition of a task that I don't recommend
But you'll climb on up and slide back down again
Ben, I'm not the only one who sees you every day
The neighbors keep knocking scared
I know she said some things you didn't want to hear
But you can still be spared
Ben, every time I see you, you've got burn marks on your back
The repetition of a task that I don't recommend
But you'll push me off and slide back down again
High enough to see the crooked lines
of the tiny house, you're constantly confined
A sudden descent breaks this calm
Another August sunset, you retreat to home
The cold air burns your eyes
Your arms begin to fail, your stubborn legs admit defeat
Your conscience slowly dies
Ben, every time I see you, you've got burn marks on your back
The repetition of a task that no one recommends
But you'll ignore us all and slide back down again
The gentle lo-fi songs on the latest phoneswithchords LP develop their granular sketches of childhood and coming of age into full portraits. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 25, 2023
The London musician recorded the dreamy psychedelic pop songs on his third album in churches, bedrooms and kitchens. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 15, 2023
Celtic-inspired instrumentation, delicate harmonies, and reflective lyrics abound on the sisterly indie-folk duo's debut album. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 26, 2023