I made my way through town last night just to see if anything had changed since I last walked these streets, but everything was as grey as it’s always been except a lick of paint on an old abandoned pub. And I can’t help complaining.
It’s always raining, even in the summer time all our hopes and dreams were washed down the drain. I’m standing here on Main Street still wondering why all the crooks stole all the pretty girls.
I’m just waiting for something to happen while the jukebox plays all it’s saddest songs. I take a look around the room and realize I’ve got nothing left in common with any except a Tipperary accent.
I still have your picture hanging in my room to remind myself of your bright blue eyes but some things come too late and we’ve been through this before, just please don’t tell me I’m walking home alone.
I still remember my fathers words that night when he said ‘’Son, no matter where you go in life, this will always be your home’’
There's so much energy throughout Feast of Love. Walls of fuzz, a driving punk rhythm, soft yet impactful vox; their chemistry will rope you in like a high school crush. Only difference is Pity Sex doesn't flake out on you. They're right here h i d d e n l e t t e r s