Pulsing veins like a teenage drum And you hold me down
With that salt skin tongue. Folding frame under setting sun
I can taste those words
I can hear her come.
Call my name like i knew you would And i come back down
Like a good boy should.
No more passion,
Silent fashion.
Running low on love to ration.
“Why’s nothing feel the same?”
I hear you.
You keep saying shit like I don’t know. “My Heaven was a day.”
I feel you.
You keep saying shit like I don’t know.
Haunt my dreams from a flash of life That day long waiting til abandoned light. Crying to a satellite,
Peeling back my skin
Found your fingers underneath it Shaping what's within.
Pulsing veins like a teenage drum
And you hold me down
With that salt skin tongue.
Found heaven’s name
In a carnal plunge,
Now i hold you up
Like some banner crutch.
I don’t need to sell my soul.
She’s already in me.
Been following Somos for many years, feeling that they had an opus in them...well, here it is. Driving pop-punk sensibilities lend an upbeat tone in contrast to the grim lyrical proceedings, and they absolutely pull it off. Evocative music that's been on repeat for me all month long. RIP, Phil PaintedDogs
Effortlessly juggling mood without slowing down or stopping to question themselves, the Singaporean band give new life to an age-old indie ethos. Bandcamp Album of the Day Mar 16, 2021
The UK upstarts' debut veers from sunny, psychedelic folk to bristling post-punk with reckless abandon without ever missing a beat. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 18, 2024