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lyrics

The sun is looming large.
It's burning hot and bright and fierce as an attack.
The light, it hurts my eyes,
'Cause I have not set foot outside in many nights.

I take solace in the darkness I created.
I am turning into something I once hated.
But don't we all?

We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.

The air has gotten stale.
The blinds are closed; the windows have been painted shut.
The dust catches in my throat.
It makes me choke and cough and spit and so much more.

I take solace in the darkness I created.
I am turning into something I once hated.
But don't we all?

We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.
We decompose.
We all get old.
We all will die.

[Bass slide into a wicked synth line]

credits

from Feathered Bird Thing, released August 8, 2022

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A Sunken Ship Irony Minneapolis, Minnesota

Like an old ghost ship rising from cursed waters, A Sunken Ship Irony emerges once again. We are soaked, old, and bruised, but we're still alive (if you could call this living).

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