1. |
Girl next door
04:34
|
|||
|
Sent to bed, I’d stay awake,
And wait to hear your boyfriend’s car,
I’d peek through the gap in the curtains,
And watch you kiss him goodnight,
And it makes me mad and queasy,
It makes me flushed and ashamed,
That guy is a total punk,
I wish he would just go away,
I wish that I could tell you I love you,
But I’m scared that you’ll just laugh,
I have to wait until I grow up,
And pick you up in my own car,
And it makes me sad and ill and,
It makes me feel so ashamed,
I feel like a total punk,
I wish I could just go away,
|
||||
2. |
Amateur dramatics
04:05
|
|||
|
You know, no one knows who I am,
I haven’t existed for fourteen years,
I think we’re better off this way,
You never know quite what to say,
I’m sure that we are safe from harm,
I’ve got eyes in the back of my head,
It’s vital that we all stay calm,
I am not such a sensible guy,
Never stop to wonder why,
Why I’m falling through floor,
Why I’m wrong when I’m right
I have rusted into the ground,
Roots leaking reddish veins,
All perfumed, the ivy ropes,
Lashing me down to the earth,
I’ll be gone when summer comes,
I’ll evaporate into the air,
Singing hymns and funeral psalms,
|
||||
3. |
Make do and mend
02:13
|
|||
|
Hold me close,
I need to know you’re there,
To feel you pressed against my fluttering chest,
It’s been so long,
Since I saw you last,
But I’ve never stopped thinking about you and us,
We’ll only break if can’t learn to bend,
And if we do, we’ll just make do and mend,
Turn away,
Don’t listen to what you hear,
We’ll catch the bus to the airport and disappear,
Go somewhere,
Where no one knows who are,
We won’t have to hide our love any more,
|
||||
4. |
Something rotten
03:26
|
|||
|
I’m soured, past my best,
So call me over to sit down,
My bones, all need a rest,
I’m acting like a clown again,
My dirty thoughts have spilt out,
Out my head now,
Into the real world,
For all to see,
The words are somewhere there,
They’re glass amongst the cotton,
Threads; they’re worms inside my head,
He said, “She fancies you something rotten,”
|
||||
5. |
Jim
03:48
|
|||
|
Are you going to go to the big birthday do?
See all the folks, have some drink and some food,
Grab a guitar- have a bit of a sing,
You bring the beers and I’ll bring the Jim,
How old is he now? Where’s he going to school?
Is he into his sports? Is he rocking, all cool?
I’m taking that boy, all under my wing,
You bring the beers and I’ll bring the Jim,
You know that I love you all,
It’s a shame I don’t see you more,
It’s almost magical,
I’m sinking into the floor,
I find it so hard to express,
All the love that is in my heart,
We should all do this more,
Stay together; not apart,
It’s time to go home, go and have a lie down,
Drink lots of water; keep the hangover down,
We’ll have to arrange to do this all again,
You bring the beers, and I’ll bring the Jim.
|
||||
6. |
||||
7. |
||||
|
I have been speared and harpooned,
By rose thorns and ghostly well-wishers,
Salt water seeps into the wound,
As the sea seeks to permeate through me,
And make me a lodestone for all,
Of its rage and comical wisdoms,
It seeks to clean me from within,
Pushing its needles and kisses,
All under my skin,
I count all the petals that fall,
Safe in my womb; my cot and cocoon,
Each one marks a calendar month,
Until I can stand up and walk around the room,
The faceless, white automatons,
Moulding my face as if it were clay,
Their beaks are all seeping out from,
The surgical masks that they use repel the plague,
My grapes have all turned to wine,
With chemical burns that water your eyes,
Their sourness only complies,
With the sterility of the saline,
And now all my thoughts turn to ash,
The anchors have rusted into a red mash,
And the plague doctors skip past my aisle,
They seem so content to just write me out and cut all my lines,
|
||||
8. |
Jaime and Cersei
03:51
|
|||
|
Close your eyes and count to ten,
Turn around and open them,
I’ve brought you back a nice surprise,
A sorry sight for sorest eyes,
We are two halves of a whole,
A single living soul,
The only ones that know,
Turn off all the lights for me,
I want to feel, but not to see,
I need to feel and to connect,
With my feminine aspect,
We were never meant to be,
Separated at all,
It hurts to be apart,
From someone I consider me,
Clutch my head against your chest,
Let me hear your heart machine,
Keeping true, its tiny rhythm,
Promise you won’t make a scene?
|
||||
9. |
Kissing cousins
03:33
|
|||
|
There is nothing that I can say,
That can take the weirdness away,
We’ll just hurt the people we love,
They will never learn to accept,
We are suitable in this respect,
They will think it best to keep us apart,
But we’re two grown adults,
We have to live our own lives,
It is such a shame,
I’ll be sad until I die,
We can’t risk a knowing glance,
I won’t dare to catch your eye,
Because everyone knows our secret,
I see them watching us,
Whispering, so tight,
“It’s normal; it’s not right.”
|
||||
10. |
Peeping Tom
02:33
|
|||
|
Mickey’s short hand points to ten,
He sits and waits for the news to end,
Everybody goes to bed,
He watches as women undress,
He’s got it down to a routine,
On his mattress, on his knees,
Anoints himself with Vaseline again,
I’m not so proud of myself,
He lives across from a tower block,
And there’s a girl on the seventh floor,
It’s easy enough to fall in love,
When she always leaves her curtains undrawn,
He’s seen her in the street before,
Carrying her groceries,
He smiled weakly as he passed,
Hating himself more than ever,
|
||||
11. |
||||
|
Could you love an alien?
Singing on half a lung,
With skin kind of mottled grey,
Allergic to the sun,
Just whisper it to me,
I’m behind you all the way,
You’ll regret what’s left undone,
Is it strange to see ourselves
As strangers, not as friends?
Could we ever get past this thing,
That’s hanging over our heads?
|
||||
Chris Ridire Cardiff, UK
Chris Ridire is a lo-fi singer/songwriter from Wexford, Ireland, currently based in Cardiff, UK.
If you like Chris Ridire, you may also like:
The London indie group's debut "mini-album" is filled with self-described oddball pop tracks.
go to album
Live In... New York City
by Tex Crick
Australian artist Tex Crick takes a low-key, 70s singer-songwriter approach to his latest collection of songs.
go to album
Reflections Vol. 1 (Bumble Bee Crown King)
by WOODS
This surprise album from the New York alternative band is an archival collection of previously unreleased recordings.
go to album
Market, from Melbourne, fuse soul and chillwave on a wonderfully woozy song with rubbery guitars & breathy harmonies.
go to album
Making a Door Less Open
by Car Seat Headrest
Will Toledo steers Car Seat Headrest in an experimental new direction, all rudimental hip-hop beats, funky synths, and plaintive violins.
go to album
Talking Secret - Single
by MILLY
Dreamy, hallucinogenic shoegaze and slowcore on this single from L.A.’s Milly, with syrupy guitars and woozy vocals.
go to album
These four songs from Melbourne-based Market are low-lit and soothing, soft vocals swaddled in tender guitar lines.
go to album
