1. |
Windshield Eyelashes
04:50
|
|||
|
It's wrong to writhe in sloth
It's what I do, my body tells me to
Edging inches off
I'm ripped and I'm torn
Hellbent, I'm going down
Speeding is pressing your luck
But if you do, we will earn our food
Sure as hell have stocked up
I'm high and I'm fogged, as snow falls down rocks Appalachia
I can't see the road
clearly with my phone
speed gaining faster
She's got the wind on her windshield and I am the gust
Killing time takes gall
But if you do, we will earn our tombs
Murder minutes in large
Miles drag on, drivel and jawns
Blessed when I'm born
Cursed when it's there
Time will drag slower
She's got the rain on her eyelashes, I am the cloud
She's got the rain on her eyelashes, I am the cloud
Please don't cry
|
||||
2. |
Five Minutes
04:38
|
|||
|
I'll call you right back
Time to relax
Call you when I'm happy again
I swear I'm on the right track
In the blink of an eye
Flushed in his faith
I once was wholesome
By my lonesome
Pray I don't get erased, in
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Can't change the past
Can't bring back that laugh
Sentimental, I'm indentured
To him for my way
I wish it was real
Still hear his voice
The time's been turning
World has been burning, so
Pull me off the pan
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
Five Minutes
The last of my money
The year 2020
I'd trade it all away
In five minutes
|
||||
3. |
Words Slip
05:14
|
|||
|
Sunday after this one
I will make a change
'N I'll come back the next one
To this seat, and this steeple
Then for six days I am gone
Just one Sunday more and
I will change my ways
'N I'll stop prattling on
To this church, and these people
Who have I been leading on?
Well, the times are tough
The fight's been fought
Life's so long, and my fuse is shot
Wicks need knicks to catch on
But these damp eyes catch no fire at all
Just one Sunday more and I will break away
And I'll stop clinging onto this sash and that bible
Free of this chain and this ball
When freedom's gone, and god is dead
I'll tell you all what is in my head
That's if they were ever there at all
So I keep hope and pride stripped
Close-mouthed and tight-lipped
But sometimes words slip after all
|
||||
Tubey Frank Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Songwriter based in Philadelphia, PA.
If you like Tubey Frank, you may also like:
Old Mountain
by Good Good Blood
Ghostly indie rock from Good Good Blood, with skeletal guitars and distant, echo-shrouded vocals.
go to album
The home-recorded new LP from surrounds oaky acoustic guitars with wreaths of violin for a full on ’70s California vibe.
go to album
Written as she was coping with an auto-immune disease, the new EP from Rachel Angel offers hushed, silvery ’50s-style Americana.
go to album
Under The Surface
by Nameless Ghost
The wrenching songs on the latest from Nameless Ghost tackle loss and grief amidst toothy indie rock.
go to album
On their self-titled LP, Montreal duo Big Share offer 10 gentle songs, wreathed by quiet guitars and whispering drums.
go to album
The new EP from denitia specializes in big, hooky pop songs that put her smoky voice front and center.
go to album
Make Way For Love
by Marlon Williams
Gentle songs from this celebrated New Zealand singer/songwriter, which are tender, delicate, and moving.
go to album
