Two tender, pointed and rather beautiful numbers by the English singer-songwriter, one referring to a song playing in a supermarket and a tricky relationship, the other tracking time and unfolding self-doubt. Sounding a little like Australias’s excellent Julia Jacklin, and certainly of interest to anyone who likes Marika Hackman or Phoebe Bridgers, Bess Atwell is signed to Lucy Rose’s label Real Kind Records.
I slip my hands into my pockets
Lean against the wall at a Blondie tribute concert
We had that same old talk in the car
On the way over I said I love him
I said I’m not in love
It’s the laughter, it’s the plunge
Things are simple when they’re done
Slide behind the curtain from the rough
On the way over I said I love him
I said it’s not enough
Did you even go to the Co-op
If you don’t come back singing the pop song that was on
My favourite place on Portland Road
Was between the radiator and some trash tv, let’s go
Half your furniturе we found on the street outside
Hеy somebody is throwing out a perfectly good piece of mind
Did you even go to the Co-op
If you don’t come back singing the pop song that was on
You said I couldn’t fit that in a song
You said I couldn’t leave here, you’re not wrong
I’ve learnt to apologise
Learnt to trust somebody with my body
I Learnt there’s a life outside mine
Press the trigger, take this picture
Anyway, you're seeing stars at night inside the plane
You'd like to light me up but I don't play
Hey, you say, summer's on her way
But she doesn't know it's the end of the world
And she dances you back to the garden, girl
But time comes in roses, I really love ya
I'm tired of being like my mother
I get excited, I get depressed
I'm never happy with how I'm dressed
Anyway, there's nothing I won't tell you or not say
And you like the way you hurt yourself today
With the TV on the back foot up the way
I'm scared of sleeping and I don't know why
How it dances you into a lonely night
But time comes in roses, I really love ya
I'm tired of being like my mother
I get excited, I get depressed
I'm never happy with how I'm dressed
Five years wasted, I'm still young
But only by a couple months
And then I'm dead for all intents and purposes
And I've been slower than I thought
At getting my life off the rocks
Nobody thinks I'm special yet
Nobody thinks I'm special yet
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