I’ve held my breath,
For twenty fucking years.
And hesitation brought me here.
It makes it harder to believe,
That I’ll see you again.
I’m so scared of growing up,
I still act like I’m fifteen years old.
Too early to give up,
But too old to come home.
I found myself at a distance,
Empty Highways and freezing train carriages.
I never thought I’d see myself like this,
Starving to death in this fucking city apartment.
Well I’m twenty one,
And so alone.
Well this distance it gave me an option,
In the form of a shiny red apple.
In it’s dark red skin,
I saw my reflection,
But I couldn’t take it,
I sunk my teeth in.
I watch your tail lights fade over this stale town.
Your arm still waving from your window,
I can barley make it out.
It’ll be a cold and quiet month,
To spend alone in my head.
But when you finally return,
We’ll be stronger for this.
I keep a tiny coloured print of you and I,
The one that we took,
At our friends engagement.
Sometimes I catch myself just swimming in your smile,
And the crease over your eyes,
If I try,
I remember what they look like.
I keep a tiny coloured print of you and I,
Folded and creased like a bill,
In the paper compartment of my wallet,
A worthy home,
For something that comes,
And goes.
Oh, I know now why I’ve never felt at home,
I’m happy and healthy in my head,
But I’ve never felt so alone,
I spend my days counting the lines along the road,
They disappear right under me,
Like all the places that I’ve been,
Just thinking of you.
The lead singer of punk band Camp Cope ventures into romantic synth-pop territory, tempering slick arrangements with bare sentiment.
Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 8, 2020
