It's 2:30 in the morning on a Wednesday night,
and the setting settled in while we swapped horrors from our lives:
the fucked up shit we grew up with that made us feel alright.
Yea, let's talk about our exes, trading sex for feeling fine.
And the pills we might have swallowed or forgotten yesterday
are lost amidst the futon, the black holes, and pillow spread.
We're both fucked up and we know it, and we know that it's okay,
so screw the grand design. I'm not aligned, and I'll never be that way.
I
don't care
what I did
last year.
And I
don't care.
You're falling from the bedside and I'm falling in the ground,
beneath the pines, the frozen soil, and the ice in dirtied mounds.
And in those moments where I realize there's no other place to go
I shove my fingers down my throat to purge my sick into the snow.
But you said to me that you once had these pills inside you, too,
and of the red tracks that would follow as you blindly staggered through.
How can we wake up every morning while we feel the way we do?
I'm not sure, but I'm awake now and just sitting here with you.
And I
don't care
how I got here.
And I
don't care.
And some nights it's just dreams of the proper way to grip a knife,
but it's 2:30 in the morning and I think we'll be alright.
Entirely analog, lush melodic pop with a tender heart from L.A. artist Human Barbie sounds bigger than the bedroom project it is. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 22, 2020
Thin Lear's sophisticated rock music is tempered with soaring chamber pop accents and an undeniable gift for melody. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 30, 2020