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lyrics

Somewhere back home they each have a mother
who tied up their shoelaces when they were younger
and I don’t hate them, but I hate that we create them.

Give it a year or two and we’ll forget them
and a year or two later there’ll be state corrections involved
and they’ll suddenly look so old.

Then someone new will come rushing to save us
and the fever about them will become contagious
and we’ll wonder how we ever lived without them.

We all go out searching for our own messiah,
but increasingly everything should be marked ‘buyer beware’,
because there’s nothing there

Do we make them to love them or are they made for us?
Do you need them to mean anything in the chorus?
Are you satisfied with the shit you buy?

It’s broadcasted escapism
and creative prostitution.
It’s the soundtrack of delusion
playing to distract you from anything that affects you.
Playing to teach your kids that fame is all there is.
Playing out the life you wish you had.

They’re just five pretty boys
and she just has an acceptable voice,
but we’ve got nothing but love to give them
because this is our religion.

credits

from Some Other Creature EP, track released November 17, 2014

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Some Other Creature Dunedin, New Zealand

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