You were a summer, I was a winter
It’s fine but it isn’t
What a way to be, somebody’s leftovers
All-consumed flame brought down to a smolder
I never knew it would be so benign
Learning the moves to enact them in time
So I parked the car on top of the hill
And we got out and looked at the stars
Free from the yellow covering the city
But I solemnly got back in the car
I dreamed I ran into you at a party in the sixties
It was all that I could do
To pray to god you weren’t there with me
And I bolted upright with a gasp
And drank and drank again
What a way to be, somebody’s leftovers
Conscious of even the coldest of shoulders
The lines we took turns plotting out in the sand
While stomping on each one was part of the plan
I thought I missed your pale and angular face
But it turns out like just about everything else
I was caught up in yet another mistake
You called me a typical Scorpio
I responded that you were a Cancer
You said you were born in May
And I said I wasn’t talking about your birthday
Your iPhone sailed across the room
And shattered like a toppled statue
So long, farewell, I guess I’ll see you in hell
When it’s a hot one, you can catch me riding shotgun
Maybe I didn’t appreciate all the time
You spent learning to put up with my thoughts
Maybe I undervalued the lessons
That you wish you’d never taught
Going out of your mind
When you’re the leftovers this time
Tom Snowden, from Alice Springs, Australia, turns in six soft, Arthur Russell-y covers of favorites from Björk, Kylie Minogue, and more. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 11, 2020
Recorded on the Grecian isle of Hydra, this is blissed-out psych pop with stacked falsetto harmonies and luscious arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 9, 2023
Two dozen 12-string acoustic improvisations that feel undeniably haunting, like lost transmissions from ancient Appalachia, rediscovered. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 17, 2022