The ships go down with all hands aboard. There's nothing that can save them now. All the wives on shore;the fires on the beach; the children in their beds; their father's dying screams echoing round the head. To the white cliffs below, to all the birds in the tower; dresses bunched in fists awaiting the telling hour. The lighthouse stands on guard, the light flashes and pans, and in this coastal town there are more tears than there is sand. The ships go down. We are going down.
Toronto rivals San Francisco as the North American capital of jangle pop as evidenced by this new record of sunny jams from the Motorists. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 16, 2024
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