Scabs from Rabbit Rabbit by Speedy Ortiz

Born-to-scab solipsists are boogying for big commission. Yes in your backyard you take handshake squeezes to extremes. Nihilistic greeting to a flytrap hungry for a fist. Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk.

Who do you wanna prove you’re a big dog to? You turn the screw, but you’re using the wrong size tool. (Don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me.)

If we’re adults then why macromanage every conviction? (Don’t talk to me.) Breaks are out till feet below. Four on floor in plague and snow. (Don’t talk to me.) Storm atop a broke umbrella. Plans of the universe are not clear to you. Don’t talk.

Who do you wanna prove you’re a big dog to? You turn the screw but you’re using the wrong size tool. (Don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk.)

Keep the lines moving, we’re all supposing you’ll shoot your shot in space. No ostentation—help me help make sense of revenge in my veins, revenge in my veins.

Taunting me with comment slop. Monosyllables exhaust so don’t talk, don’t talk. (Don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me.)

• Alternative
• indie rock
• rock
• Philadelphia