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from Hindsight by Year Without a Summer

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lyrics

We were always playing at the thrill of it, thrill of it
Kissed in secret chambers that looked out on the ocean
Now it’s taking me over, now it takes me out
Just a little pleasure for the hell of it, the thrill of it
Just a little lightness in a life dark as the ocean
Now it’s taking me over, now it takes me out

You said you’d left him, but you didn’t
I guess you thought that you’d just keep that hidden from me
Well I thought you were more empowered
It doesn’t suit you, being such a coward
He’s everything that I’m not, I get it:
Likable. Successful. It’s all to his credit
But I was left with one clear impression
Outside the reach of my self-expression

When I saw you together
It stung my face, like a prick
Of frost in the January weather
Like a burn in a lace top to pick
And I guess being single
Is something I must face, like a prick
Of my finger on a poisoned spindle
It made me tired, but now it makes me sick

You said you could explain, but you couldn’t.
You called me up to clear the air, but you shouldn’t have tried
I don’t know what made me so vitriolic
You weren’t even that hyperbolic
He’s everything that I’m not, I see it:
Talented, positive, yes, I agree it’s quite nice
I never wanted to leave you damaged
I wanted you to do well, to manage


And I guess that I misjudged you and I
I was your crime and your alibi
Under cold night skies
(We were always playing at the thrill of it, thrill of it, just a little pleasure for the thrill of it, hell of it)
And I was a secret you could hold
Close when you came in from the cold
And the cold, the cold, the cold, it burns my face like a prick.

credits

from Hindsight, released May 1, 2020
feat Sara Beamish (vocals)

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about

Year Without a Summer image

Year Without a Summer Coventry, UK

Beach-shack post-punk. Solo play in the bedroom. Sailed from St Annes, washed up in Coventry. Interests include apocalypse survival, false memories, moths.

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