Track 1 of the album Flooded Lot · 2016
Three A.M. Is Not My Friend
“I wrote this at the kitchen table with the fridge humming at me. We played it first because it starts so quiet you can hear the room.”
grunge · slowcore · sludge · 4:04
Lyrics
The fridge hums low in the kitchen The clock is a slow dripping tap Third night in a row I'm awake Staring at the crack in the map Everyone's dreaming but me Streetlight leaking through the blinds I'm tracing old arguments on the ceiling Wrong words, wrong time Quiet now, quiet now Hear it in the walls Three A.M. is not my friend It never lets the hurting end Counting sheep who all ran off Wrap me up in fuzz and fog Three A.M. is not my friend Come on, morning, come on in Cold tea on the windowsill A dog barks out on the street I wrote your name on a napkin And folded it small, and ate Tomorrow I'll be fine, I swear Coffee, sun and a lie But right now the dark has my number And it calls and I don't know why Quiet now, quiet now Hear it in the walls Three A.M. is not my friend It never lets the hurting end Counting sheep who all ran off Wrap me up in fuzz and fog Three A.M. is not my friend Come on, morning, come on in Light, a little light At the edge of the blinds Birds, a couple of birds Taking their time Three A.M. is not my friend It never lets the hurting end Counting sheep who all ran off Wrap me up in fuzz and fog Three A.M. is not my friend Come on, morning, come on in Come on in Come on in