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Dirty Lights

by Beach Slang

on The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us (2015)

What we are is not under control
We're the kids who won't do what we're told
All the words that I carve out of my throat
They keep me alive, but keep me alone

So, I shove those things in microphones
To feel like I might matter, I don't

Wrap your scars around my radio
Let it hit soft and sweet and slow
Baby, spit in my mouth so I can hold
All of the junk you've ever been told

I'm a last chance bet, a neon ghost
But, man, the dirtiest lights shine the most

I blur all this hurt into sound (x8)