all the ashtrays in sight were in full blossom
he talked, he'd been so lonesome
his story had no tail, his story had no head
“don't worry”, i said
he's a real einstein and i don't lie
Albert Einstein, i'll stay behind
I saw her picture on the door of the fridge
i took the dead champagne, had a swig
i said, “she's got jolly wistful eyes”
and hid my pain and cries inside
he's quite often lost in thought
but when he talks he talks a lot and he never gives a smooth talk
i would let him measure the energy
of the whole mass of my body
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