by Jordan O'Shea

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First single from the upcoming album 'This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things' due out in 2018.


I've been shooting flares at the sun, girl
Just for the fun, girl
I'm living my life with no difficulty.
I know that you think you're unique but
Your David Lynch haircut
Doesn't make you different from anybody.
I know that you're one of us loners
And nobody told us
That there was no medicine for melancholy.
God you're so cool on the outside
But deep on the inside
Your heart is just beating in it's purgatory.

Tell me why you paint yourself gold
When the world is so cold
I guess I want to know
What got you out of bed this morning.
Tell me why you're moving so mad
When the world is so sad
I guess I should be glad
That you made it out of bed this morning.

I'm a corpse in the backseat of your motorcar,
Check your rear-view mirror, we haven't even got that far.
Fill me up with ritalin and then I can begin again
To make small-talk about shit that's not interesting.
I take my morning pills so it feels like I'm human
'Cause I don't want to know if my soul is blooming
Into something beautiful, beauty's just in cinema,
And we can trade our children now for bullets in America.
True emancipation is self-medication,
Give me something bitter, something sweet, something gracious.
I want to feel like a ballet dancer in the ocean,
Submarine pre-teen drowning in slow motion.

Show me how to breath, how to leave all this darkness behind.


released February 8, 2018
Written, performed, recorded, and mixed by Jordan O'Shea.
Mastered by A Thing Called Music.
Released by Beanie Tapes 2018.


all rights reserved


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