Old Sticks by leafcuts

Should I be amazed
If they laugh or turn away?
I cannot play it straight
I'm a seizure, on a boat, upon a plate

Wait, I give in
Who here wants to begin?
I guess that I'll go first
I am lost for words

Picking up old sticks
Built a house for every ghost I ever missed
The moon shone gasoline
Over the doors, the windows, the conservatory

Meditate, watch it burn
In the end, feels so warm
I guess it's called self-love
To be cruel to whoever isn't you

• Electronic
• acoustic guitar
• ambient
• folk
• game music
• indie folk
• indie game music
• lofi
• piano
• singer-songwriter
• Birmingham