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by Yr Poetry

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1.
Spring back to the Stratford Road, June 2004. She put both wheels in the wall and walked away. Luck be random, luck roll blind. Luck be gentle when it's mine, and I'll be grateful. And I swear it works like drugs: the more I push the more my tolerance goes up. Took so much I stopped time, I can still see summer stretching ahead. Glass shards sparkle, and I have never felt so hopeful. This ain't a roadway, it's a jungle. This ain't a story, it's a fable. Put both wheels in the wall, and walked away. A permanent scar outlasted her. Luck be brutal, luck betray. Luck just spray "dickhead" on his car and walk away. and the breakups come like buses, first there's crushes then there's cliches then there's just.. nothing. From the bridge where the grass burned back, I can still see summer stretching ahead. Glass shards sparkle. You've got some blood on your lip. You always said you'd leave yr mark. I still pass that wall and smile, I can still see summer stretching ahead. This ain't a story, it's a fable. And that permanent scar, it ain't just a scar, it's a symbol. That ain't a lesson learned, it's a legend you forgot. That ain't a lesson learned, it's a legend you had lost. And I, have never felt so hopeful.
2.
she said there's too many songs about the friend zone, and not enough songs about what it's like turning down yr song-writing friends. well I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slightly disappointed that this meant we'd never marry but oh, he seems like such a good kid, in a scene where you needed it. she said there's too many songs about the friend zone, and not enough songs about turning down yr friends. too many songs about the friend zone makes it sound like he's owed. Makes her feel like she's owned. 1,2,3 is a god damn pattern. 1, just circumstance. 2, a coincidence. 3 is a god damn pattern. she still calls me when she's passing thru my city, she's been touring for years. We talk about our mutual, terrible friends then she disappears. saying there's too many songs about the friend zone, and not enough songs about turning down yr friends. too many songs about the friend zone makes it sound like he's owed. Makes her feel like she's owned. 1, just circumstance. 2, a coincidence. 3 is a god damn pattern.
3.
... then we got snowed in. Thematic engulfing. I was a breaking up and you were already broken. Said it seems bitter, sorry sounds better. Sorry we did not break things sooner. Dead of Winter, got dealt The Traitor and voted: Exile! We don't talk about them that much. Wouldn't know what to say. We don't talk about them. Queueing for beauty, you are a cutie, now all the neckbeard neds wanna shoot me. Caught some shade in a song a made, wanted to know if I meant it. Well, I did. So survive the evening, the world is ending, sometimes the dead won't stay where you leave them. She said "Will you write about this, cos the last time went so well". Well, I did. We don't talk about them that much. Wouldn't know what to say. We don't talk about them. but we sure talk around them, every fresh start formed from the failing of the last one. Scorch marks around us; silhouettes defined by their darkness. I like you more than you like yourself, I think.
4.
So the earth was rent asunder. It was a codine kinda dream. Shook awake by trucks and tired trackway screams. Sleeping in shifts, pick up the slack when the other sags. Some nights the guilt hits, you can't help but think that you're selfish. It's not selfish, it's just self defence. So which one's worse; Losing your brain or your body first. Some nights the guilt hits, you can't help but think that you're selfish It's not selfish, it's just self defence. Hey Holly don't go back to the doctors, he'll only repeat what he told ya. The body can't take all that trauma. Hey Holly don't go back to the hospital. They only fix you up if it's physical, and sometimes we don't come back out at all. Would you rather your brain or body fail?

about

"In our short years we come long way to treat bad and throw away. I want you to be free, don't worry about me, and just like the movies, we play out our last scene" A. A. Farm, 2001.


FINALLYYYY The last of the three ep collection we planned to finish 2 years ago but got distracted by, welp, everything. It's all happening now, oh yes.

credits

released November 27, 2020

1,2,3 recorded by James Brown and mixed by Tom Livemore.
All songs mastered by Tom Livemore.

Artwork by Anja Venter

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Yr Poetry Birmingham, UK

Yr Poetry. The Band

Alexei: Guitar
Junior: Drums

Damn the man.
Save the empire.

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