typewriters (are back in style again)

take them one at a time

something simple

new blue vw

fine china

eminly dickinson

bashful

bashful (too)

a memory

The solitary amputation of my coronary 
I find it hard to describe but I’ll try my best 
Disgruntled, tied-up, reactionary 
I’m all kinetic-hyperbaric when I try to rest 

Groomed rows and three wild, it’s all compuntionary 
Yang yin, you know something and you’d love to expound 
I’m yours… and you got mine 
You say you’re only ever trying to turn a bad thing around 

There is no corollary 
I try my best to confide 
I’m not your functionary 
I think that we should rewind 

I’ve turned around, it’s been a journey, now I’m ordinary 
Duped again! Oh, what a scoundrel, I just try to elide — 
What happened? Was I just honorary? 
You said I only ever had to let you inside 

I’m not reactionary 
I thought that we were on track 
Too bad, that shit’s proprietary 
I think I want it back 

Owww Too bad, that shit’s proprietary 
I think I want it back


credits

song: Philip Ferrari/Justin West 
lyrics: Justin West 

Philip Ferrari - guitar 
Zach Larabee - floor tom 
Justin West - bass guitar, synth, voice

that shit's proprietary

dots and boxes