Sleeper Agent from Lagoon by Bird Streets & Ed Harcourt

I gotta tell you, I’m kind of a mess. Live through the day just to get to the next. Can’t return calls, never mind send a text. The monster inside, it don’t get any rest. Stare into the hole that surrounds all of this. If it has a purpose, I don’t know what it is. Next thing you know, you’re afraid to exist. Is there another word for total paralysis? As soon as possible, I’m breaking out of here. I’m gonna dig my soul to freedom or die trying. ’Cause there’s no hospital can cure me of the fear that my first move could be my last. It’s lying in wait for the signal to sound. A sleeper agent with orders to cut me down. Every positive feeling, underscored by a frown. At war with my mind and I keep losing ground. A congress of cowards ruling over my id. And the monster inside is just a scared little kid hiding under the steps, trying not to get hit. It’s getting so hard to forgive and forget when he knows what he did. Something I needed to get off my chest. But now that I’ve told you, wish I’d never confessed.

• 90s
• Alternative
• Ed Harcourt
• Rock
• epic
• fear
• imposter syndrome
• indie rock
• piano
• power pop
• self-loathing
• singer-songwriter
• strings
• Brooklyn