We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

i swear i swear i swear (it's all bullshit)

from Lost Boys by Yr Poetry

/

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      £1 GBP  or more

     

  • Buy the Full Digital Album

lyrics

Getting to the hour I get trouble leaving.
Forgot which pocket I put my keys in.
She says she can't dance when the floor is heaving,
but everyone's got that song they believe in.
I know they've won awards, but alla them songs are the same three chords (and it's bullshit.)

Stay for a while cos my will is broken.
Stay in the smoking cell just choking
Stay till the end cos you've lost yr token
Stare at the corridor floor just hoping.
I don't care where it hits, I just want it to hurt.

It's bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. (bullshit bullshit)
Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. (bullshit bullshit)

Stare at the corridor just hoping
Stare at the floor like it's Damian's ocean.
Sober you sees that his metaphor's broken
But drunk you just wants a moment.
I don't care where it hits, I just want it to hurt.

It's bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. (bullshit bullshit)
Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. (bullshit bullshit)

(I went to yr house and woke up seventeen years later, wearing the same clothes, I vomited rainbow road and we fell thru the black on the side of the tracks and also then you swapped my arms out for wings.)

I couldn't tell you what yr dream means.
I couldn't even tell you where I put my house keys.
The song's sold a million but you think yr the only
A floor full of extroverts and everyone's lonely.
I don't care where it hits, I just want it to hurt.

It's bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. (bullshit bullshit)
Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. (bullshit bullshit)

It's all bullshit. Just a performance. Like the way singers manipluate their audience. She's like: Pardon your french. But it won't make a difference. They only speak roadman round these ends, and this song won't make no new friends.

credits

from Lost Boys, released December 22, 2017
Amber Brooks pardon'd our french.

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Yr Poetry image

Yr Poetry Birmingham, UK

Yr Poetry. The Band

Alexei: Guitar
Junior: Drums

Damn the man.
Save the empire.

contact / help

Contact Yr Poetry

Streaming and
Download help

Shipping and returns

Redeem code

Report this track or account

If you like Yr Poetry, you may also like:

Bandcamp Daily  your guide to the world of Bandcamp

On Bandcamp Radio

Saxophonist Isaiah Collier chats about his new LP and the influence of Pharoah Sanders.
listen now