We can’t trust the stars at night when they very well could be ambient light.
A city abandoned by everything that once had a soul
And when the streets are run by feral dogs
And that heavenly light is just chemical smog
We’ll plan our attack and make our escape from this place called home.
So walk with me in the pale moonlight
The only ones left in this desperate plight
There’s nothing in the alleys where these creatures now roam
Dodge through shadows of these buildings long gone
Metal ruins of our own Babylon
We’re the only known survivors of this place once called home.
What’s that out there
Staring at me?
Hush my darling, don’t you dare fucking cry
The wolves might here us, and then they’ll try
To rip and tear our flesh apart
But together we can rule the dark
We’ll have the breakfast of kings, and the dinner of champions, and we’ll live like thieves in this cold bitter world.
The latest from French Vanilla mashes up art punk, funk, and new wave into avant-garde pop songs as catchy as they are danceable. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 18, 2019
The Minneapolis band add a horn section, a running surrealist allegory about walls, and an occasional nod to the elegiac to their electroshocked post-punk. Bandcamp Album of the Day Mar 4, 2024