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lyrics

I can hear the neighbors out on the fire escape
The moon’s hanging low like a dinner plate
I’ve been hoping for a revelation
But I only hear the voice in my head

There’s a Christmas cactus dying on the windowsill
And my mother says her life is unfulfilled
I’m making puppets in the guest bedroom
And they always come out looking like me

The Siamese cat is difficult
Glaring from under the green lamp
I put all my poison in a letter
Sealed with some spit on a stamp

There’s a white van parked on the corner
I’m worried that they’re doing surveillance
My toaster keeps catching on fire
I’m starting to get used to the smell

The only calls I get are solicitors
Trying to sell me things I don’t need
I’ve been hoping for some kind of direction
No one knows how nervous I am

Standing here up on the rooftop
Looking out at the North Bay
Feeling the wind wind through me
Somehow I feel good in a way
It seems like I might be okay

credits

from Artificial Light, released February 27, 2023
Guy: Vocals, electric guitar
Nate: Vocals, piano, bass

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

natelaban Dover, New Hampshire

Nate Laban is a songwriter and performer from New Hampshire.

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