Someday I will loud
Stand apart like a flare gun in a crowd,
But for now Im fine being a shitty, screaming church mouse
And I'm a moving van full of empty boxes
Trying to look profound and not come off obnoxious
Who's scrapping every part of his cranium
For an increasingly shitty set list
And I'm the unlocked door
That is never fully open
The, troubled child putting his G.I. Joes in coffins
The sociopathic shut in who might be secretly killing it
A massacre, without anyone to witness
And Im the nightmarish dreamscape of the legend of Don Quixote
I'm my father's friend from college who died on peyote
I'm a screw up bound for living on the streets
Or maybe fortune and glory
But either way, Mr. Postman please,
I just want your daughter to be happy.
So would you please,
Give her this letter for me.
It says I'm sorry for the things I never did.
And I'm even more sorry for my soul crushing emphasis
On how I don't wanna grow up,
I want to be a Toys R Us kid.
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 15, 2024
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