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lyrics
You're with your suburban parents
at a cocktail party.
You've been gritting your teeth
because you know you're more
than some kid with a nice house
and family photos, a storebought
sign on the wall with uncredited quotes.
But wait, I'm lost. Did you grow up
in a cardboard box?
You were talking to me like you knew
what it's like to sleep on the
cold city streets at night.
You were on a road trip
to Chicago.
Transportation blues
and truck stop food,
always eatin' like a couch potato.
But wait, I'm lost. Did you grow up
in a cardboard box?
You were talking to me like you knew
what it's like to sleep on the
cold city streets at night.
You've got the money,
your dad's got the money.
You've got the money,
your dad's got the money.
Would you mind sharing
if I gave you a smooch?
Or, would you wither away
in your bottle of hooch?
I don't understand how
you're so down to earth,
when you're family's got
a billion dollar net worth.
And you're so sad,
aren't we all?
We've got a thousand things
and nothing we want.
And, we're dead in a way.
We've got a thousand things
we could do but we're bored
and complaining.
One-man project Vlimmer exists in the borderlands between post-punk and industrial/EBM, creating danceable darkness. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 8, 2022
The striking synth/goth songs on the latest from Vlimmer feel 50 stories tall, with gigantic walls of sound and bleak, ominous vocals. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 26, 2021