Lyrics: Luke Bower/Jacob Allen/Cameron Dawson
Pull out, down the street, cycling
Aimlessly spiralling
4pm streets are quiet
Stomach hungry autopilot
This is the last day of the summer
This is the last day of the summer
I feel like Mr. White
I know I’m Mister noon
I can’t find a light
I know I’m missing you
Did I miss the break
Did I miss the rendezvous
I try but it don’t take
I just …
real
ised I lost you
First blush, worst loss
First up, you’re gone
First blush, worst loss
First up, you’re gone
Tracing on these feathers
Sometimes keep it together
Dissipating pressure
Channelling your presence
Down the road
I see some
Kinda shape
That resembles us
I don’t belong here
Something is wrong here
I’ve been displaced
I won’t move on here
First blush, worst loss
First up, you’re gone
First blush, worst loss
First up, you’re gone