Another filthy Austin band cashing in our drink tokens and falling in love all too quickly. Garage rock//alternative//indie folk • Hippie Crippler • "Borne on an Elliott Smith cusp, with a moon rising in Cat Stevens/Tea for the Tillerman winsome pop." —Laurie Gallardo, KUTX Austin Music Minute • live • original • lyrics • sxsw • videos • shows • tour • album • EP • podcasts • twitter • instagram

Fine When

Boring old regular lyrics//back

I'm walking backwards//two feet going to check their trace
Old maps and atlases//foot notes I can't erase
  It's so hard to ignore the fucking sound of your voice
  played up with the lilt of a drunk man's poise

I was fine when all my friends were gone
I couldn't find them//I was stranded at Shipe park
  I took a nap on a bench.
  I'm not sure what I'm trying to find//attempt to define inside of these lines

  I fell asleep on a bench.

Newspaper comforters//headlines wrapped over face
Words have their origins//you now drown under said weight
  Getting blown by a dude in the ladies' restroom
  while Roy Orbison croons to you them white-collard blues

I was fine when I was without you
I couldn't feel I was far enough away but how I was wrong
  when I was without you I was a song with no words about how bad I was wronged.

  Do you remember that photograph in my wallet I have? I woke up swimming in the lake, and, well...

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