Promise to write you tomorrow
Tonight I can barely hold a pen
Now that the trail's gone cold
Needless to say I'm not impressed
Some men were born to be pure evil
And fucker I think that's you
Are you surprised again that all your closest friends
Could be so selfish and cruel?
Leonard Cohen died last year
A bump in the night
That don't scare me half as much
As the thought that my dog Lucky might
Some things I hear ring true in my ears
And I can hardly swallow
Some men were born to be pure evil
But their words ring so hollow
Now the sun's coming up
I've been old long enough to know
What am I supposed to know
Or what I am supposed to know
All the colors in the room
Come detached and attached around you
It squeezes the air out of my lungs
Some things I hear ring cold in my ears
And I can hardly swallow
But some men were born to be pure evil
And their words ring so hollow
Now the sun's coming up
A slow drip of Tropicália-infused psychedelia from New Orleans rock outfit Blue Basin: balmy one moment, aggressive the next. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 22, 2022
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This Pittsburgh band's gloriously messy mash-up of post-punk, garage rock, and shoegaze is snotty enough to be considered plain old punk. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 2, 2022