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Artiste:
Waxahatchee
Titre:
Catfish
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Crave, desolate, you dive in, we follow along I contrive you with whiskey and sam cooke songs And we lay on our backs, soaking wet Below a static tv set Conversation flows, counting shooting stars and catfish But I'll never make a wish Barefoot, parking lot Getting high in portland, or We echo 17 and we glue it back and poke fun And it gets real quiet, I don't care Darting with moonshine, truth or dare I say just what I'm thinking and secondguess instantly And you laugh at me We stick to our slow motion memory Its 1 in the morning and 90 degrees And though now it is hovering darkly over me It'll look just like heaven when I get up and leave You're a ghost and I can't breathe