Hello, Sun

my boy

Maddie Moon - My Boy

What’s your kind and can we bind?
If it’s blinding, then it’s light
Who decides when you’re alive?
If you’re striving, you will thrive

It’s in my head
My good thoughts end up dead
It’s in my head
My good thoughts end up dead
It’s in my head
It’s in my head
It’s in my head

You can find where to go
If you give up your control 
Spin your mind, vertigo
You must give up your control
Oh, your control

And pour your blue skies into mine
Pour your blue skies into mine
Restore all the light
Restore all the light
Restore all the light
Restore all the light

What’s your kind and can we bind?
If it’s blinding, then it’s light

It’s in my head
My good thoughts are not dead
It’s in my head
My good thoughts are not dead
It’s in my head
It’s in my head 
It’s in my head
It’s in my head
It’s in my head
My good thoughts are not dead
It’s in my head

Thrive

It's 10.30am on a Tuesday morning. Office party last night was a mess. CEO made a pass at Kelly from Commercial and then performed three rounds of “The Boys Are Back In Town” on the karaoke. You did about seven pints then slipped a French exit a good few hours before it wound down. Could have been worse – but you’re struggling today as the excel spreadsheet you’re faced with hammers you repeatedly in the head like a grim magistrate passing judgement on last night’s ordeal.
 
If I can only make it ‘til lunch, you think. The local is down the road – a few halves of the good stuff and I’ll be right as rain. As the minutes start to tick on you start to feel a little better, strengthened by the image of alcohol-induced relief. You take lunch early and fly (as the crow does) straight down the road to the palace of pints. Three quarters of an hour hence, and you’re a little more human and a little less like a human dartboard.  
 
Darts. What a fantastic idea, you think. Suddenly its 2.30pm and Tim from Accounts is next to you, Guinness in hand. I bloody love beer, you grunt at him before shoving your hand into a bag of whatever crips had the silliest flavour, in search of greasy ebullience.

Hair of the Dog

Feel

Zoetrope Single Edit

LYRICS

I should be more motivated 
This isn’t how good stories are created
Maybe I’m lazy
I should be more concentrated 
Feel the fire burning to make it
Maybe I’m lazy
Or maybe it’s

Three recessions in thirty years
A handheld newscycle full of fear 
Maybe I’m just diluted by trauma 
From living in an endless apocalyptic drama

Try to think of life somewhere secluded 
Why does that goal feel so deluded 
Maybe I’m lazy
I don’t  have the emotional energy
To think of my own self so tenderly 
Maybe I’m lazy
Or maybe it’s 

Three recessions in thirty years
A handheld newscycle full of fear 
Maybe I’m just diluted by trauma 
From living in an endless apocalyptic drama
The rich burning our planet to ashes
Our own lives dictated by fascists
How could I be feeling any calmer
I’m living in an endless apocalyptic drama

The spark left my eyes
Once the gaping divide was lost
On the horizon 

Maybe I’m lazy
Heck if you say so
Maybe I’m lazy
Or maybe it’s 

Three recessions in thirty years
A handheld newscycle full of fear 
Maybe I’m just diluted by trauma 
From living in an endless apocalyptic drama
The rich burning our planet to ashes
Our own lives dictated by fascists
How could I be feeling any calmer
I’m living in an endless apocalyptic drama

SOOT SPRITE - Lazy

Billy

OUT NOW, ON LOLIPOP RECORDS!!!
Astrologer - "Eternal Friday" (DIGI SINGLE)
the beautiful new title-track single, off of the upcoming full length record coming spring 2023!!!
www.lolipoprecords.com

ASTROLOGER - "Eternal Friday"

Mediterranean Hands

FNTN - Mediterranean Hands

Handsome Wife was produced by Tommy McLaughlin in Attica studios. Mastered by Katie Tavini

In Waiting

Handsome Wife

A record label in Bristol, UK, putting out punk / indie rock records we like.

SOOT SPRITE - Lazy

specialistsubject

Related tracks