She's tired of pulling weeds
Out from the cracks inside her skull
She's an important freak
She's tired of moving out
Every four months to somewhere worse
She takes another bite
From the boy of the week
Joann
Your mouth is boarded up
Her body kinder and cleaner than you had ever imagined
The room is filling up
With high-school heroes and thugs
You're not a fan but Joann is
Behind her perfumed skin
Pulls back one more mournful grin
Welcomes all the half-dead men and lukewarm gin
That help her redefine regret
And she ran from that house with a kiss on her neck
Smelled like an angel when you found her crying on the steps
Who would have guessed
Your heads on fire 'cause you're the only one left for Joann
Making the most of the violence
And the silence
And the streetlights crying on your car
And the fact that you're not drunk yet
And the one-to-one talk that you know you'll have
On the way back to her apartment
And the fact that you bought that movie she says she loves
And the drugs somebody gave her that make her think nobody cares about her but you
Oh poor Joann
Young fear lives in the air
The hormones float in your lungs
But her song's already been sung
And in the morning when she leaves to slam some sham with grand-am
You watch the time you spent deflate
And pray to god that you could hate Joann
Oakland artist Kevin Nichols blends his love of pop melodies and Nirvana guitar tones on this first single from an upcoming full-length. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 8, 2021
The Philadelphia group sharpen their hooks and internal dyanmics for a fun and non-dorky take on power pop anyone can get behind. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 26, 2024