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It's a trick to me.
How you do that thing where the guys wind themselves round your fingers like string. You call it poetry. I call puppetry.
(I'm hanging.)
It's a trick to me.
Yeh I've seen it spread across bars but I'm pretty sure you nailed him in 8 beats. Shrink my verses cos nothing good rhymes with summer.
(what a bummer.)
That difference is ours. I'm shadow, you're stars.
It's a trick to me.
How you filled that room, how all the guys trail in your wake like perfume. I'm just nosing. I know nothing.
(Haven't you noticed?)
It's a trick to me.
(Is it a trick to you?)
Yeh Jun, it's a trick to me
But it's a trip for her.
All those free drank nights. I'd probably do the same if I could get it right. Lose some weight and dye my hair for the summer.
(I'd become her.)
That difference is ours. I'm shadow, you're stars.
You are tattoos and I am scars, I am essays, you are art.
I could write it all down, could you love me for it?
It's a trick to me, but I'm slain by the audacity, and that's the dichotomy. Yeh ya boy's got a dictionary and I can say it all.
From the first deadened cowbell to the last dissonant guitar interval, Dutch quartet Geo's new record is shaped for impact. Bandcamp Album of the Day Apr 25, 2024