"It's such waste," you say
With your heels in hand
Yeah, you're slurring all your words
And I'm avoiding all your friends
"A headcase," they say
But I place no blame
You know I never meant to lose it
At your party again
"Does anyone know who this kid is?
Yeah, he's a piss-poor flirt and I'm over it."
I guess I drank too much and I still can't dance
Oh god, I hate this song
And all my friends
So take what you can get
I could be better yet, don't talk you'll ruin it
Take what you can get
I'll be your best regret, sullen in silhouettes
"It's such shame," you say
Through a cigarette
Oh, I stutter over pseudo-lovers
Draped in sweat
You came and left
With no regrets
I only barely make it out with just
An empty pack of Parliaments
"Does anyone know who this kid is?
Yeah, he's a 4, at best, if I'm generous."
I guess I drank too much and I still can't dance
Oh god, I hate this song
And all my friends
You're on the back porch, falling in love
Out front, I'm smoking, waiting for the car to come
With their blend of playfulness and graduate-level instrumentation, Dorcha deftly prove that improvisational zeal and conservatory-level precision aren't mutually exclusive. Bandcamp Album of the Day Nov 16, 2020
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