It turns out that if your art is successful, people start looking at it, and oftentimes will start thinking what you thinking at the time, and doing what you were doing. I've had plenty of bad ideas in my time, and I wish I hadn't elevated some of them in my art. It's easy to feel like you're safe "backstage" when you're creating in isolation, but nothing happens in a vacuum. So this song is about that sort of pang of realization that something you thought was private and contained to yourself was actually having effects far beyond yourself.
Recording:
Track 1: MIDI drums/bass
Track 2: vocals
Tracks 3-4: electric guitar
Lyrics:
A hole I donβt remember in my wall
Look through the hole
Dig into the wall
Images I hoped Iβd never see
Deck the hall in rows
I painted them years ago
In someone elseβs blood
With someone elseβs love
I painted with the curtains drawn
When the agents said theyβd pay me well
If I signed on to sell
Some old singer told me that it burns
I laughed at what he said
And took a piece of bread
A quiet crying stopped me and I turned
A young childβs innocence
Stained black in my ink
Iβll give you back the wages that Iβve earned
throw them on the floor
I remember something more
βAnd what is that to us?
Weβll keep your body hung
Preserved in a plastic box
immersed inside our fluids
For the exhibitβ
Carmenβ¨
2025-07-03 16:06:14 +0000 UTCFig
2025-06-30 23:26:50 +0000 UTC