1. |
Too Much
04:35
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The cherry blossoms bloomed
The third week of March
Midway through our quarantine
Just before your 23rd
We stayed with my parents who kept us
Fed and warm in New Jersey
And I wonder if you had fun
I wonder if I wonder too much
In that time we walked the woods
And fell and fucked and got the goods
I saw your soul with a sober eye
We drank and paused and found the breath
Then traded it for cigarettes
You saw my father make me cry
And I wonder if I am enough
I wonder if I wonder too much
Adge taught me to strike the balance
But juggling’s never been my talent
I know she’s right but I’m just not there
So until then I’ll ask you this
Is structured time a thing you miss?
Do you want it? Do you need it?
Do you care?
Until then I’ll ask you this
Do I laugh too loud? Are you embarrassed
Of my body, my honesty, or my hair?
See I wonder if I am too much
And I wonder if I wonder too much?
Do you wonder if I am too much?
Do you wonder if I wonder too much?
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2. |
Wrong River
03:33
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I’m tryna map out my love for you
I don’t know where it began
We’re going walking at Shark River soon
Geography I understand
Please tell me where the line is drawn in the sand
I can’t see it anymore
Is it too much to ask for you to have this conversation?
Or has your head also been resting on that door?
You go on writing songs about the wrong river
I’ll be burning my bridges
You keep on foraging for mushrooms in the forest
I’ll keep on pulling off ticks
I swear you saw that movie cause you warned me of the party scene
And when the girl would get sick
You said “I really think you’ll love it friend, it’s gay enough”
And I said “there is no such thing”
You go on writing songs about the wrong river
I’ll be building my bridges
You keep on foraging for mushrooms in the forest
I’ll keep on pulling off ticks
You go on writing songs about the wrong river
I’ll be harmonizing
You keep on being there whenever I call for you
I’ll keep writing what I miss
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3. |
Yellow Paint
02:26
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May is for meteor showers
I’m sleeping with the ticks tonight
The milk moon has all but soured
The feel of my room like an empty old pint
So pour yourself a drink
And say what you think
I know I’m not what you wanted me to be
And what does that mean?
May is for mother’s day
And pitch pines with measured ambition
I wish I could hear what you’re trying to say
But instead I hunt for what’s missing
So cut yourself some slack
And please take care of your back
I’ll find the words to say to
Hold us over if only till next May
No, you don’t know me now
But you knew me before this change
Blonde hair and buck teeth,
A phobia of vomiting
And you were my shining sun
You gave light to the rain
You must have seen some part of me in the yellow paint
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Padraic's Joy Asbury Park, New Jersey
queer indie-folk songwriter & vocalist. gemini piney.
they/them/theirs
BLACK TRANS LIVES MATTER
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