High above these crowded streets
My mind races through my miseries
As I think of ways to come down
Jitters from my morning coffee
Left my chest with a painful throbbing
That cigarettes could not sort out
Flashes of this self deceiving
Like subway stops through past bereavement
While the spin cycle does my cleaning
Strung out on something just to make sense
Leaky synapses barely held, in my defense
Hard to barter with the muddy mirror
Pacing steps hardly ever get it cleaner
What do you see when you look in the mirror?
If you can't roll with the punches
Then get out of this place
Cause I cannot stand to see you like this
Burning eyes and bound by vices
Splitting hairs and counting pennies
Polishing my rusted metals
Of past achievements to half hearted endeavors
Writing "to-do" on scraps of paper
Maybe today I'll get around to "later"
Or get lost in Checker Cabs and forgotten favors
This unraveling Idea
That I can actually leave if I ever choose to leave
Ignoring every sign
That my moment came and went
Hell bent on heaven sent and every sentiment
Everyone knows everything
But every time it falls apart
Specializing in bright, sunny "bedroom rock español," this Brooklyn singer-songwriter puts a unique spin on lo-fi music. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 18, 2024
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