A Critic

from Rooms of the Red Castle by Mailman

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lyrics

I wake in the slaughter house, my bones bare and dry. Proceed with caution through the light, the weeping widows cry.
Pack my bags and hold my eyes, in your hands they weigh a tone. To seek you out and start us now will load and aim the gun.

The bush, walking, a man selling ex’s and friends. Our credits not worthy to the club crown lens.

But I'm here tonight, and I'm on fire. On this dark and lonely night, your waist is my desire.

Straight past you to another mother, i held her hand and skin. Now my lover and no other I walk her by in sin.
As i watch her everything else is mute, the wind blows and the people move. Even when I'm cloaked in this fever my heart it disapproves.

The sudden presence of you here now a mystery. How do i wake in misery?

But I'm here tonight, and I'm on fire. On this dark and lonely night, your waist is my desire.
And the rain comes down, its messing with your hair. I know what made that frown, best left unsaid.

Here come your rain, i hope i am safe from the preachers and the prayers, screaming out your holy name. What's that they say? She’ll come and wash your face away.
Okay now, she says, who’s do you wanna be? A traitor? A sinner? A critic? That gold is mine I'm here to win it. And i'll give you everything, my name, my spirit.

But I'm here tonight, and I'm on fire. On this dark and lonely night, your waist is my desire.
And the rain comes down, it’s fucking up your hair. I know what made that frown, best left unsaid.
And i'll give you my hand, the one i used to shoot a man. If you could see me now... let's start again.

Fires, fill the night. I’m flying and I'm going south. I wake to the sound of your lips as they rest so softly on my mouth.
We take in turns and by chance, i see you, I'm coming last. It's a rainy days blast, looks like no one checked the forecast.
Makes it feel like Sunday. I hope you’re not coming my way.

credits

from Rooms of the Red Castle, released June 15, 2022

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about

Mailman image

Mailman Melbourne, Australia

Alter-ego of producer and musician Lachlan Reynolds.

From ice and pollen crops I reign, through dark mumbling and sustained chords I explain.
Dreams and moments from my mind to yours, in underwhelming times this may just be to you, another chore. ... more

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