Thinking back to ’59,
He held your hand, his valentine,
Seduced you with those old love songs,
They weren’t his words but he could do no wrong,
He said, oh my love,
Marry me, let’s not wait,
Be mine, for a lifetime, come on its fate,
Memories threaded with little beads,
On the chain you made for me,
With the only letter that you kept,
In a wooden box,
By where you slept,
It was the written proof, it wasn’t fate,
He was a waste of time not it’s too late,
Holding onto pain and apologies,
The final words you said to me,
‘I’m sorry that I made it worse’,
Tainted blessing, stubborn curse,
Tear stained cheeks,
Cold extremities,
The bitter sweetness of my shocked capillaries, you said,
Take my advice darling, I can attest,
Never following it myself, means I know best.
Toronto rivals San Francisco as the North American capital of jangle pop as evidenced by this new record of sunny jams from the Motorists. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 16, 2024
The Cleveland band temper uncompromising metalcore breakdowns with infectious jangle-pop melodies and ample dark humor.
Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 1, 2021