1. |
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I don’t care for cardiology
Just thinking about blood makes me dizzy
But I owe my heart an apology
It’s pissed at me and it’s no wonder why
And I said “Surgeon, can you fix this heart that is skewed?
If I have to type up one more email full of platitudes
I don’t think all of the defibrillators in the Royal Infirmary’s gonna save her”
I’ve been stuffing paperwork in it
Obscuring everything I have loved
And it prods me 80 times a minute
To remind me of time that I’ve squandered
And the Surgeon said
“Sure, we’ll give her heart an overhaul, gentrify the region
New residents will move in with a taste for craft gin
And she’ll forget her follies
And everything that made her feel vibrant
Everything that made her feel
Every little thing that made her”
Some day I’ll drive us out to the beach
You’ll have made a mix tape for our car
And we will have a ramp to help our senior dog out the boot
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2. |
Hands
03:20
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With those hands already spent
You pulled me out of soft sand
Those same hands I first did see
Weighed down by your songs in a northern bar
Fleeced by the promoter, she had a name like a porn star
And I’m learning that some of the prettiest things
Are the biggest barriers to feeling free
Like the ocean or that spade head resting on our knees
Mourning the olive branch you could not be
Well darling I hope that comfort finds thee
And to this day I know it still hurts
To see certain scenes on the television
Raised on a pastoral diet of rich tea biscuits and apologies
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3. |
Bloody Mary
03:20
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When you’re feeling pleased with your lot
When you’re three pints deep
Oh Lord, won’t you comfort me tonight
I wanna do something about it
Something nasty and free
I could crack some eggs in the kitchen drawer
Blame it on the kid next door
I could stay up all night on bloody marys
3D print genitals in the libraries
If it’d save my life tonight
You could keep a gratitude journal
Count your blessings in a song
But for God’s sakes I’m not Mary Poppins
I cannot fly away on an umbrella
So unless you have a better plan
I might just crack some eggs in the kitchen drawer
Blame it on the kid next door
I might just stay up all night on bloody marys
3D print genitals in the libraries
If it’d save my life for a while
And I could defenestrate these old keys
Fairy liquidate the USB port
Drink up a toast to the god Ares
And make chaos an Olympic sport
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4. |
Bodies Of Water
03:41
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Hey bottom feeders
Trying to pick up girls in the bottom of a tank full of booze
Some kind of Sean Connery with pneumatic pecs and pointed shoes
Well I’m only here to be silly with my friends
Forget about the week that I just had
So you don’t need to keep guessing my age
And I don’t mean to be rude fella
But not even if I was as old as Methuselah
Hey mister big fish
Desperate to impart advice, well I may have one appendage less
But that doesn’t mean that I’m a damsel in distress
In need of your new found expertise
Big fish quit flapping it about
On your island on this tiny planet
And I don’t mean to be rude fella
But not even if I was as old as Methuselah
And I might carry this womb like a shackle
It’s in that void, in all I don’t have that things fizz and crackle
I’ll go running in the rain
Work late again
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5. |
Gut, Inhuman
03:22
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Someone muddied the oat milk
And now there’s nothing clean to drink
I’m making milkshakes while you’re making deals with equity weasels
May I speak with the chef?
For its not a recipe that sits well on my gut
Someone defecated in the speakers
I withdraw my tenner a month
They’re sending out shites at three hundred and twenty kilobytes
Someone please turn it down
For its not a melody that sits well on my gut
Even the pen from which my quibbles flow through
Beneath lies a backdrop of inhuman revenue
Somehow Bezzubov still stands
But your days are numbered you toothless count
You can tell your swine straddling friends who parished it up the walls
Someone close the common room
For this cabinets taking a beating on my gut
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6. |
Shadow
03:42
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Shakespeare wrote about love when folk around him had bubonic plague
Well who am I to brave such a topic when folk around me just full of parking rage?
Early morning I’ll blurt out something obscene
Words so unreal, they’ll fold themselves back in the dream they belong to
And all I’ll have is your shadow
But that is enough, that is enough
I have my suspicions that Hallmark and Satan were in cahoots
And they made love and greeting cards two of the most overpriced fruits
They stuck love on a pedestal so you reach up, grab what you can
But some people just have slippery hands
And all I’ll grab is your shadow
But that is enough, that is enough
For your shadow is perfect, it doesn’t have a voice to curse
Nor the human nature to get frustrated each time I lose my purse
No, it doesn’t even have the sense to know my rhymes are just perverse
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7. |
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Twice my age but half as jaded
Round Soho clubs we paraded
In our Mary Quant dazes
Falling asleep if the DJ was too basic
And as you wiped the rum from your cheeks
You said I was born with a wayward streak
No amount of accounts
In your blood was gonna settle that book
Seamlessly you danced across the rooms
But my seams were clunky and
Fabricated from two opposing looms
I thank my friends who pulled me away
From that malnourished embrace
I thank God they came along when they did
And they did
In practice rooms eating quiches
Trying to find musical niches
And screaming out
She lets her hair down for sure
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8. |
Beard Reprise
03:32
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Can we channel our laughter
And we’ll film it with puppets
To watch again in a score or two
When I’ll have a beard like you
Well a score year has passed
I’m still waiting for it to feel like the real thing
And not a dress rehearsal
We shared the same protracted way of living
Slow to put on weight, slow to graduate
But we didn’t care, we were glow pears
In that corridor that stunk of wet feet and Weetabix
Like a constant hum in your ears
You don’t notice until it stops
So the thing it tugged at the hem of my knee
Unravelling me so completely
But how sweet the taste is this next scene
How sweet the taste is this next scene
How sweet the taste is this next scene
How sweet the taste is this next scene
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Quincey May Brown Manchester, UK
A Mancunian singer/songwriter with a penchant for shirking convention and darkly playful lyrics. Quincey May Brown’s harp
and piano led songs are supported by the luscious textural arrangements of producer/guitarist Joel Harries and bass clarinettist Ben Castle.
Her highly acclaimed debut album Basic Surgeon was released in November 2023.
... more
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