When she said, "You make me nervous when you're pacing.
Are you ever comfortable? You can't put your feet up in your coffin."
It hurt my feelings. This life of leisure tests my patience.
I said, "Don't you know I trace your outline in the carpet when I'm walking?"
You can't put down roots into a moving target.
Was I functional? I thought only cowards heeded caution.
So now am I a useless thing? Oh I am always so uneasy.
And absence makes the heart grow fonder is the hardest pill to swallow.
Then she said, "It serves you right for playing chicken.
If we eat the stars out of the sky, will they still shine like diamonds? Will they twinkle in our shit?"
Then when I said she was fickle, like: "You could hardly spot me in a lineup,"
She countered, "You're too sensitive passion that's impersonal is timeless."
She said, "Take this sitting down," so see me sitting pretty.
"Your waffling exhausts me. Can't you take a stand with confidence?"
She was leaking like a faucet drip, drip, drip, drip, drip.
I said, "Love, my love is unambiguous throbbing like the pressure in my sinuses."
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 15, 2024
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