Science Fiction EP

by Chris Ridire

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

      name your price




released February 10, 2015

Chris Ridire - Gach rud



all rights reserved


Chris Ridire Cardiff, UK

Chris Ridire is a lo-fi singer/songwriter from Wexford, Ireland, currently based in Cardiff, UK.

contact / help

Contact Chris Ridire

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: Science Fiction
I’d love to get to,
To know you better,
To know all your subtle-,
Your architecture,

I could almost let,
Allow myself to,
Become obsessive,
To always need you,

I was unimpressed,
Your breasts just feel like two lumps of flesh,
I expected more,

Are you free Friday?
We could rent a film,
Order some food in,
It could almost be real,

You see I’m in love,
And I just wanted to give you the night off,
Track Name: Every day is Sunday
Come peel me off the ceiling,
I’ll simulate a feeling,
I live on heart-shaped lockets,
And stolen antibiotics,

Erode my silly mind,
I’m cheap, so cheap,

I cannot feel a Monday,
When every day is Sunday,
A big, dumb ball of nothing,
Swinging on a shoestring,
Track Name: The Ballad of Chippy Alley
You know you're talking so tough,
Well I have had it up to here.
Track Name: Autopilot
This night has gone to my head,
Knocked me right off-balance,
The cold air in my lungs,
Feels like sulfuric acid,
I trudge on, down the street,
One foot in front of the other,
I ignore all other people,
Try and keep a straight line,

I’m really getting too old,
To keep on acting like this,
I have to learn to accept,
That enough is enough,

It’s started to fucking rain,
I feel like I might dissolve,
Wash away down the drain,
No trace left of me,
But I should be so lucky,
I’ll have to face tomorrow,
With any rotten luck,
The hangover will kill me.
Track Name: Blood Oranges
Today I made a sort of candle vigil,
With fairy lights and cotton wool and thimbles,
The shadows sprayed across the room are fine,
Olympian, stoic champions of light,

And it’s helps,
Me to see,
To give form,
To what I,
Feel inside,
Raked and dry,
Peeling skin,
Sunken cheeks,

I made myself another cheap Christingle,
My blood oranges were just starting to turn,
The sides are dotted with apricots and dates,
A fairy light on top, so it doesn’t burn,