You got mascara on my shirt,
as we were rolling in the dirt,
or you rolled me—
because I wasn’t rough enough, you see
And I hate to be the one to complain,
but that shit left a big dark stain
that won’t come out
Black on blue is what it’s all about
And if I ever wear that shirt again,
I will likely stumble into oblivion,
and you’d like that
I’d be sure to wear that silly hat
your mom bought me
Why should I care, if it was free?
And I know you’re not well fed
And I can’t say you’re well bred
And those were some awful things you said
So there is no excuse for the abuse,
your tiny hands just like a noose
across my back
It was all right until I heard the snap
You got pet-names and parades
and one-way escapades
across the line
What did I get for my time?
I got tired thighs and empty sighs
and balling out my eyes,
Oh, what a steal!
What was your end of the deal?
Oh, that’s right.
It was waiting for a call at night
And I know you’re not well fed
And I can’t say you’re well bred
And those were some awful things you said
So, I must say that I’m hurt about the dirt
I just want this stain out of my shirt,
once and for all
Christ, it’s been there since the fall
Ain’t that long enough for me to be in
run-down, down-and-out misery?
Because that’s what it does
Don’t ask me why—it’s just because
you treated me like a child
I put up with it for a while,
but couldn’t take it anymore
Five months later, you’re knocking at my door
Should I open it?
I’m not sure
Irish singer-songwriter Sarah E. Cullen bares her heart over pastoral folk arrangements enshrouded in a dream-pop haze. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 29, 2021
A hushed and low-lit EP from this Melbourne musician, where dreamlike melodies drift across a bed of tender guitar. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 19, 2023