Unbroken hearts are rife. One of the things that I pretend.
I’m fudging with my life, fooling myself in the end.
I’ll leave all this behind, come to the new me.
I can’t remember us though I still can hum the song.
There’s not much I can trust, my memories are mostly wrong.
I’ve left all this behind and built new ones already.
I blow the acid test everytime you come around.
Have I not tried my best to keep your beauty down,
to leave your face behind, and read another story?
I dally with the thought of being together again.
Laughing at how we fought war stories in the sand.
We’d leave them all behind, burried with the worries.
Unbroken hearts are rife. One of the things that I pretend.
Toronto rivals San Francisco as the North American capital of jangle pop as evidenced by this new record of sunny jams from the Motorists. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 16, 2024