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Bread

by Jordan Rice

/

lyrics

I am the underwater king of one current,
Hear me echo down to nothing.
Hear me cry, "My people, cometh!
Eat my body, fill your stomachs!"

I am patron saint of clicks,
Why does nothing ever stick?
Why are my people so ungrateful?
Eat my body have a plateful.

I am the anti-club king of low depth,
Reverb my platitudes in thy breaths.
I didn't interrupt my waking dead
For an audience of shaking heads.

Make a good song.
Make a bop.
Get a following.
Never stop.
Buy some new stuff.
Get a korg.
Right now, you're no bite and all bork.

I am the lo-fi queen of good grain,
The crops only grow in the rain.
The songs write when in pain.
The dog plays dead if he’s trained.

I am that back in style old gum.
I am that Frankenstein of no-one.
I am a past trend dragging my legs,
Remember me when I’m--

Make a good song.
Make a bop.
Get a following.
Never stop.
Buy some new stuff.
Get a korg.
Right now, you're no bite and all bork.

credits

released August 5, 2019

license

all rights reserved

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about

jord image

jord UK

jord is a producer and songwriter, working from her bedroom, making songs about dust

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