lyrics
Imagine waking up in your own body, naked on a brown leather couch. The room is unfamiliar, and all of a sudden, you are 95 years old. It's hot in the room, and the temperature increases as it passes back and forth between you're newly wrinkled skin, and the Genuine Leather of the couch. You cannot get up, where would you run to? You don't even know where you are.
Susan woke up every day wishing she had bigger hands, she said,
"Am I the perfect woman, am I an
Unfinished man?"
She walked back home, she tried to grow her roots in sinking sand
She said, "he told me that he loves me, but he don't know who i am and I'm just
Hangin' out on
Peroxide Beach
So sour, don't got the power, don't got the energy
So if you see the water start to, get to deep
Just let me sleep,
Just let me sleep,
Just let me---"
Hours have passed now or maybe they haven't. The sun exploded years ago so it's Impossible to know. You notice that you and the couch are not very different, and you start to feel sick. You know you'll be here forever, so is everything you've cared about before today rendered totally meaningless, or is the weight of the world even greater with its loss? Speaking of weight, I ate way too much fucking salt today, holy shit.
"And when my body bloats and wrinkles and my skin turns green and blue I want the whole wide world to know i didn't like a, single one of you except for
Overdose Elvis, 'cause when you're,
when you're dead you're chillin'
and the King of the Jungle who's about to leave the building and i'm just--
Hangin' out on
Peroxide Beach
So sour don't go the power don't got the
Energy"
So when you see Susan caught up in the
Undertow just let it go,
just let it go,
just let it--
On the floor in front of you you see a frozen metal spoon. You immediately pick it up and put it in your mouth, hoping it'll help you cool off. Horrified, you feel the silver start to melt around your tongue. You try to remove it, but it stretches and stretches like an infinite rope of taffy. Drenched and claustrophobic, you try to cry, but all your body's liquids have already poured out through your skin. You hear a voice ask,
"Is she gonna be ok? Does she need to go to the hospital?"
"Yes!" you attempt, but it's no use--the metal taffy has already hardened; locking your jaw shut. They were never listening anyway.
"She'll be fine," another voice replied, "probably just sweating out the venom. Give her 'til Tuesday."
Susan/Suzanne
credits
from
Willow,
released March 23, 2018
Drums/Guitar/Harmonies- Sara Cath
Vocals/Guitar/Bass- Haley Dahl
Written by Haley Dahl
license
all rights reserved
