Your pain is thick, it fits you like a glove.
Your gaze is fixed; a haunting has begun.
Like a punch in the gut; like a mouthful of blood,
Grimace hard not to flinch as your hands grope in the mud.
Mmmmmmmm…..
Your flame’s eclipsed by pocketfuls of scorn.
Three dirty tricks to find a bed of thorns
On your tongue, in your kiss, broken smile, crooked teeth,
Poison leaks from your lips and more salt rolls down your cheek.
Mmmmmmmm……
Your pain is slick, no purchase to be found.
You lose your grip and slide back to the ground.
To be here once again, like a moth to a flame,
Knowing there’s no escape from your litany of shame.
Oooh Oooh Oooh Oooh
Oooh Oooh Oooh Oooh
Like a punch in the gut; like a mouthful of blood,
Grimace hard not to flinch as your hands grope in the mud.
Your pain is thick, it fits you like a glove.
Your gaze is fixed; a haunting has begun.
The new EP from Scottish songwriter Alec Bowman_Clarke goes deep, setting vulnerable lyrics to gentle melodies & stripped-back arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 30, 2021
Alec Bowman perfectly captures the dark soil under the pastoral world of British folk with this collection of melancholy originals. Bandcamp New & Notable May 12, 2020