Voices from Midline Errors by Midline Errors

The kids are all downstairs, mon freres, eleventh grade
There's nothing going on beyond the jokes we trade
But hyperactive boys make noise and it's my pad
We're getting louder and I'm getting mad
You're gonna wake my dad!

I try to keep them down but sound will leak upstairs
No matter what I do into my parents' lair
I keep a watchful ear in fear the silence breaks
Above I hear the thud a footfall makes
My God, my dad's awake!

A faceless voice bursts from the dark:
"Jesus Christ, it's half past two!
Don't you know we're trying to sleep up here?
What the hell is wrong with you!"

My throbbing renal glands, dad slams his bedroom door
And now my confidants don't want to hang no more
But noone makes the break
Mistake - the whispers come
And chatter turns to shouts - we're deaf and dumb
And chatter turns to shouts - our brains are numb
My dad creeps down the stairs my good friends say:
"Heh! Gotta run!"

• Experimental
• avant-garde
• funky
• indie
• pop
• progressive
• shuffle
• vague tonal center
• Oakland