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There’ll be no rain clouds, only blue skies now. The weather’s surely better on the other side. Now you’re out of your own head, you’re out of your life. And the top of my room, yeah, well that was my view last week. Was dreaming of a way I could have seen you out, out of a dark place, no not towards the white. Same clothes, we’re never gonna see you outgrow.
Olofshöjdsgatan, yeah well that was my home last year. Was looking for a place I could have seen myself get out of a routine, not away from my life. And that far away I say “perspective’s all so clear!” Same clothes, we’re never gonna see you outgrow.
I see your eyes cloud; this is your brain off sleep. The view is somehow stranger now it’s three AM and you’re shot out of a quiet room straight into Loud Bright. And that far away I say “perspective’s not so clear.” Same clothes, we’re never gonna see you outgrow.
You gave your love to your rents, but you won’t be paying that again. It hurts like it did, not for good measure like I’ve said. All’s not what it seems, what was it like in your dreams? Same clothes, I’m never gonna wear this shirt out, it's cold nights like this that give me reason to shout like “in no time, we all meet our own meaningless out”.
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This warmth shivers my brain awake. I'll reach for my phone, buzzing, I want to bury that too. I’m awake while you’re not, so I sat and wrote down new rules for my health: I want to move every day, and I won’t eat any more meat.
This ceiling gaze, there is no way through. I’m just moving my mouth, talking, I’m gonna fake that too. I’m here but I’m not, it’s like I’m watching this room from afar. I want to take this night outside under the gaze of a sorry sky. But once its shade becomes Too Bright, I’ll close the doors, pull back the blinds.
This was not unlike something I’d do but now I want to get off this trip, bury myself in snow, numb to all feeling. The ceiling is receding, did you wake to me screaming: "It’s hard to picture yourself where you are when you’re crawling in the dark trying to find whatever unlearned"? But as I turn the light back on, I realise there was nothing lost.
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I had associated these white snowscapes with isolation, maybe that’s why I’d isolated myself from all of your conversations. I longed for inspiration or just some kind of motivation but I swear that it could rain forever and I would still be procrastinating. As I’m getting off at Valand I can relate to these strangers. They do not just talk in circles, sometimes we just walk in circles. I’d feel at home wherever if only I could be here forever. Black coffee, black metal records on Sundays, that’d be, no, my perfect someday.
Oh my god, I’d left you outside and I’ve been away the entire time since the day that we left, since that moment that you were crying because you said you couldn’t believe the one you loved the most would just get up and leave like one year meant nothing, oh the year that was to be your New Bright. I’m alone but that won’t change the fact that I fall to the floor every time as you keep calling my name out your open window it echoes off the treetops and back down the street. That resounds in this room, it’s like some ache of some Old Bright.
I left not to meet the cold nor to feel its touch, but to hear its voice, I liked the ambient sound, it's like “la la la la la la la”. All like “la la la la la la la”.
Oh my god I've just realised I’ve been home the entire time since these bags did finally fall off my shoulders onto the floor to be left packed for three years. So once this flag does finally fade off my shirt I’ll have made up my mind, I won’t have waited. I’ll bury what remains, this new light is only to be my All Bright.
I left not to meet the cold nor to feel its touch, but to hear its voice, I liked the ambient sound, all like “la la la la la la la”. All like “la la la la la la la”.
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I heard your voice, I heard it echo out in the night: "Did you get up early, or did you miss your connecting flight?"
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And on that night on which I had dreamt of my New Bright, I remember feeling something, but then awoke to remember nothing. Said “where’s the ground? Hey, where’s the soul? Hey, where’s my shoes?” I turned my heel to the side, and flew away and wondered why.
So take the lot and the rest of me too. One foot was in the door, the other in the ground. I wanted it all but only half of the time, but when your heart is in your mouth it’s hard to say anything. Face to the floor, I couldn’t tell if I knew you then. Until your life asked for more, but I swear I told you that.
Now you’re awake from a dream where time ran differently. There is now a watch on your sleeve, you’re looking down just to feel yourself on the ground you cannot lift from the pavement. I drag bare feet through the grass knowing the sun’s set on the past.
Where’s my mouth? Hey, where’s the salt on this food? When your heart is in your stomach it’s hard to taste anything. I wanted it all but only half of the time, but when your heart is in your mouth it’s hard to say anything. Face to the floor, I couldn’t tell if I knew you then. Until your life asked for more, but I swear I told you that.
Face to the wall I couldn’t tell if you heard me sink, and say: “life’s asked for more”. But I swear I told you that.
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Microclimate /maɪkrəʊklaɪmət/ (noun): "the climate of a very small or restricted area, especially when this differs from the climate of the surrounding area".
These songs were mostly written between January 2018 and January 2019, and mostly in Göteborg, Sweden while I was studying there. They appear on the record in the order in which they were written, being the chronological order of any moments described. It is canon that the events of 'Indifference' (from our split single with Eli & the Truth) took place between 'The North Fake' and 'All Bright'.
