Agnes Manners - Mangosteen Foothills

I see it all but I’ll never understand
How these peacocks
So closely resemble men
Some people keep clean tallies on the walls
Just to wake up wishing they fucked up a little more.

This is the sound of a young neighbourhood Recycling on a Sunday afternoon
The screech of glass on glass perturbs the moon
and I’ll soon wake up still in my clothes and shoes.

The years became sweet thistles
Passing over my skin
How bittersweet the dissonance has been
And a change is gonna come
Fermenting in my blood
I’ll italicise the altruist in me
And I’ll do good things inconspicuously.

Steppin’ off a streetcar named The Catholic Guilt
I'm runnin’ t’ward the mangosteen foothills
It a’int on you to reinvent the wheel
Just be mindful of the old banana peels.

No petty grievances
Fair-weather activists
And PC hypocrites
In the Oppression Olympics
The Dilettante Disneyland
It never made much sense
I was a wayward man and then

The years became sweet thistles
Passing over my skin
How bittersweet the dissonance has been.
And a change is gonna come
Fermenting in my blood
I’ll italicise the altruist in me
And I’ll do good things inconspicuously.

The years became sweet thistles
Passing over my skin
How bittersweet the dissonance has been
And a change is gonna come
Fermenting in my blood
I’ll italicise the altruist in me
And I’ll do good things inconspicuously.
I’ll make the bed to help me clear my head
And I’ll pass the elevator t’ward the stairs.

Written by:
JOHN JOSEPH FLOREANI, MATTHEW JEFFERY GRAVOLIN, SHANE ARRON EDWARDS

Publisher:
Lyrics © Hipgnosis Songs Group

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