This dream you're in is one you won't soon forget
When you awake
It's gonna occupy a place in your head
Like ugly words immortalised in cement
You're thinking all the time about absent friends
I'm just the same
We'll get together some unimagined day
Til then we're trapped in amber but that's okay
Year in amber
Temporally frozen like a mosquito
Sometimes I feel so certain it's not a dream
That this is real
Whose mind could think of anything so unkind
That mind would have to be an unhappy mind
Can't wait to see the weather when we wake up
Come rain or shine
The atmosphere has been regenerating
We'll find that sluggishly the dream is fading
Year in amber
Temporally frozen like a mosquito
Jane's train driver husband, she doesn't fully trust
He lets her use his discount but she'd rather take the bus
She wakes up and resents the fact he won her with his looks
She carries herself like somebody who hates their own guts
Another hasty message lets her know he's stuck in snow
She doesn't hesitate before she packs her bags to go
She steps onto the street that heavy weather doesn't slow
And onto the first bus with a destination she doesn't know
She knows her obsolescence is a virtue for tonight
The lightly frozen countryside won't paralyse her flight
Her bus attempts a corner but the corner is too tight
It skates into a hedgerow, knocking someone off their bike
The taxi rank is empty but persistently waits Jane
A girl holding a sleeping bag asks her for some spare change
Does anything mean anything, especially her pain?
She gives the girl her taxi fare and bolts into the rain
She happens by a substation, wires stretching everywhere
Imagining if she could only plug herself in there
Perhaps she'd zap herself to London and have an affair
Or ride the current endlessly and live without a care
She finds the perfect entrance where the metal bars are bent
You'd think they'd have precautions other than a feeble fence
As she climbs up the pylon she is feeling slightly tense
It sounds so suicidal but she knows it makes sense
And sure enough she grabbed the wire and found herself in space
She did not die but shot into the wires at lightning pace
No more was she a victim of a life she was to waste
She's everywhere and nowhere now, and she powers the trains
about
The pineapple, disrobed, began to feel woozy. The stairs had told the truth.
New York indie pop duo embark on an ambitious, ecstatic spirit quest, crafted with continuous listening in mind; a dreamy, rewarding loop. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 7, 2023
An almost anti-blues/anti-rock style that masters classic sounds while mocking the industry’s perceived seriousness. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 27, 2018