Athens, France - Black Country, New Road

She flies to Paris, France, I come down in her childhood bed

And write the words I'll one day wish that I had never said

Now all that I became must die before the forum thread

The cursed vultures feed and spread the seeded daily bread

And I guess I found out

What it's like

Oh, I am very young

But I am working

Working on the glow-up

I am the richest girl in every room

Mainline to the UE BOOM

They ask me

"Why don't you sing with an English accent?"

Well, I guess it's too late to change it now

In the rural American town fairground

I go 'round and I go 'round

It's a great wide gulf between intentions and what ground met me

I check my phone and make the sound

Like "Theme From Failure" performed, but for just you

Like the new road built out of Black Country ground

I have learned so little from all I lost in 2018

I think she's still waiting there for us, somewhere

Underneath what we built to keep the waters clean

It's a one-size-fits-all, hardcore, cyber-fetish, early-noughties zine

She sells Matcha shots to pay for printing costs and a PR team

She's recently enlightened and for some reason, that fazes me

It won't give up, too soft to touch and how hard could it really be?