1. |
Pep Talk
03:47
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I'm not wasting more time here
I'm not wasting more time this year
with small-town jealousy, comparison and fear
I'm not wasting more time here
I'm not wasting more time this year
On casual dockets, and crap dutch beer
It's harder to admit it than to act cavalier
Harder to admit you've learned less than old peers
Harder to admit it the way out is unclear
Going grey with a head of unfinished ideas
Propping up the bar with the faded balladeers
Another slurred speech about my difficult career
Perfecting this cynical sideline sneer
I'm not wasting more time here
I'm not wasting more time this year
In foetal position, weeks disappear
I'm not wasting more time here
I'm not wasting more time this year
with sarcastic shite talk, too scared to sound sincere
Going grey with a head of unfinished of ideas
Propping up the bar with the faded balladeers
Furtive desires and punk ideals
Perfecting this cynical sideline sneer
I’m not wasting more time here
I’m not wasting more time this year
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2. |
Golden Hour
04:00
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Crossing the river at golden hour
When the match isn’t over and everyone’s elsewhere
So you act like it’s yours alone to discover
You act like it’s never been seen before
Walking towards her, breath getting shorter
She’s entered your character, become its core
In the amber light of an Indian summer
The old town shimmers like you’ve never noticed before…
The orchestra in my heart starts to sing
Drowns out any doubt there could’ve been
The soft, building, drumroll of her gaze
Beats me into believing we’re okay
Pushing you forward, turning the corner
Piggyback, hold-tight, down the quays
Speeding up to hear her scream
Gives a bold new reason to dream
Baby your world play has got me thirsty
Off work early, drunk on Thursday
Pissed and whispering Wilco in the middle of the night
“I’m the Dan who loves you”, alright.
The orchestra in my heart starts to sing
Drowns out any doubt there could’ve been
Her name resonates at a deeper frequency
Stirs me into believing it’s meant to be
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3. |
Pimlico
04:10
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Plodding through Pimlico,
in the soft spitting rain of a granite grey Sunday
The kind of aesthetic Ian Curtis impersonators
would like to pretend is deeply poetic
If it paints you a picture, I'm pretty hungover,
gently heartbroken in yesterday's clothes
Holes in my shoes and puddles between my toes
The local head case is on the green
wailing Buffalo Soldier and swaying in his dream
Aspiring scumbags are lobbing eggs
from a Honda Civic with a dodgy reg
The new pram pushers are not concerned
The old dog walkers have also learned
It's none of your business, wind your neck in
Keep your mouth shut, count your blessings
The air is smothered with the smell of Guinness
It doesn't help you to feel less nauseous
I guess last night she came to her senses
I’m not really smart I’m just fucking pretentious
And maybe the misery won’t be momentous
But at the moment it’s worth the mention.
Plodding through Pimlico, down onto Bridgefoot
Then over the river to go to rehearsal
I'll hide in the practice room, for two or three hours
Run through the set and forget about everyone
For a moment at least I'm high and invincible
To the world outside I’d say I'm untouchable
In a mouldy bunker it’s all bearable
With four chords and a brief release...
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4. |
Conventions Of Cool
04:18
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Celtic jersey
Corduroy jacket
Hair down to there
15watt racket
I never learned the conventions of cool
Good old days
being told you’re gay
as if nothing could matter more
Tripped up and pinned to the floor
by conventions of cool
Gotta watch your back
Memorise this fact
Never be sincere
That’s a weakness here
Staying silent
Out of habit
Hiding in headphones
Buried in Black Sabbath, it was
Some escape from
the conventions of cool
Splits on a fifty bag
Smoke it the forest
A little haze helps you
feel like a tourist when you’re
Too familiar with
the conventions of cool
Gotta watch your back
Try to act relaxed
Never show your fear
That won’t help you here
My hands shake when I think about it
Even now, sometimes feel surrounded
I hope they get theirs
Well-earned nightmares
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5. |
Match Of The Day
02:11
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Match of the day
Keeping us sane
Overdubbed crowd noise
Tricking our brain
It helps when nothing else
Feels certain anymore
If you know, well please don’t tell me
I don’t want to hear the score before
Match of the day
Filled with debate
A cast of bald men
From way back when
disagree with the referee
about an easy penalty
For me, undoubtedly
That’s all we really need
Magnificent imported mercenaries
Diving for Saudi dignitaries
Proficient middle England journeymen
For the wage alone you’d envy them
It’s a funny old game
I stream for free with a VPN
It works for an hour
Then its cuts out again
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6. |
February
05:29
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I guess it’s finally getting in on me
A deep fatigue for February
A year’s disappeared but the days go slow
Stuck in a loop on North Circular Road
The boiler’s broken, and I’m cracked too
Fairy lights can only do so much for our mood
At 1pm it’s the remote staff meeting,
We’re having ‘virtual cake’ for the girl who’s leaving
I guess it’s finally getting in on me
The old fatigue for February
Tiesto’s blaring, from the flat below
Til’ 3am that’s just how they cope I suppose
I’m gonna build a fort in the living room
Crawl back into this man-made womb
Learn to monetise my anxieties
Make a mental health podcast for RTÉ
I mean I’m no expert, but you know I’m owning it…
I wanna go back
To a simpler time
Playing Championship Manager 98-99
Where I’ll have some control
And know what to do
Take Wolves on a cup run
Til’ that falls apart too
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7. |
Affection
04:26
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Affection’s so obscured by distance
At this stage it’s an abstract concept
Hidden in a string of emails
Signing off with less commitment
I’d lie to you if it made a difference
Mostly subjects/creatures of convenience
We’re mostly products of our context
Alcohol and loose agreements
So we don’t say that little phrase anymore
And can’t rely on that cliché like before
Two months apart and two to go (until your home)
Too far removed these days to know...
I do my best not to blame you
Or second guess attempts to talk through
The guilt abroad and false temptation
Things we lose to new locations
It’s been a while since someone mattered
Nice to notice when I’m shattered
A crooked kind of consolation
Still singing despite relegation
So we don’t say that little phrase anymore
And can’t rely on that cliché like before
Two months apart and two to go (until your home)
Too far removed these days to know...
Affection’s so obscured by distance
Emotions missed in picture postcards
Clutter we can call mementos
Or the paper trail for how we let go
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8. |
Cheesemonger
03:26
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Infatuated with the effort it takes
Notions of fate, and having to wait for
connections that really matter
the triumph in how we surpass
time, distance and logic
too many mistakes of the past
To think of me then and to look at you now
Everything’s coming up Millhouse
Striding through the rising tide
staring down old doubts with pride
I thank God I’m alive, for a change
Honey you keep me in daydreams
Crap Bing Crosby crooning
Does the sincerity of the delivery
make up for the wayward tuning?
Beyond any sarcastic apathy
or elaborate, worn out jealousy
this cheesemonger you’ve made of me
It’s something else completely.
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9. |
October Afternoons
04:10
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October afternoons
bed bound with the blues
Colour drains from the day
And there’s nothing I can say
October afternoons
In low wattage rooms
Dust gathers in the glass
Start to argue with the past
I know it’s hard to be anything
with limited energy
The future feels shuttered when
you’re stuck on a memory
October afternoons
Weighed down by the news
Turn away from the screen
Another worry you don’t need
October afternoons
No getting through to you
Keeping out of sight
In this feeble light
It’s hard to be anything with
limited energy
The future feels meaningless
counting your enemies
Words are going cheap, but
Mine are yours to keep
Forget about the past
You’re not going back
You’re not going back there
October afternoons
I can’t walk in your shoes
Just be by your side
Hope you feel alright
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Danny Carroll Dublin, Ireland
embarrassing millennial, still at the music in Dublin, Ireland
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