the men were here to get your belgian things they ll store them for you in an airplane hangar there s guys in biohazard suits mud caking on their rubber boots they ve come to keep your pretty things from danger the men were here to get your belgian things they ll spend the whole day hauling them downstairs i shot a roll of thirty two exposures my camera groans beneath the weight it bears i can see you in my sleep playing the points for all you re worth walking gingerly across the bruised earth the men were here to get your belgian things they waltzed right through the door and went fluorescent their boots were black and shiny and your treasures gleamed like stars bones from deep down in the fertile crescent the arteries are clogging in the mainframe there s too much information in the pipes i saw the mess you left up in the east bedroom a tiger s never gonna change its stripes i guess i guess but jesus what a mess one way in and no way out the men were here to get your belgian things and only i was here to see them do it i wish you had a number where you are it s hard with no one here to help me through it  i can see you in my sleep playing the points for all you re worth walking gingerly across the bruised earth2
['alternative rock', 'anti-folk', 'chamber pop', 'indie pop', 'indie rock', 'lo-fi', 'melancholia', 'new weird america', 'stomp and holler']