Regarding the Walmart Parking Lot on 88th Street

from by dad thighs

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lyrics

The smell of industrial paint and magnolia
fill the warm summer night air.
We reminisce old meadows
once full of life,
now they’re parking lots,
abandoned shopping carts,
crows picking at discarded wrappers,
they were empty and pure.
The world hints at our numbered days
and we revel in it.

(Creating a perfect bubble to
be ignorant in,
taking romance as a drug,
it’s not only killing me).

We’ve created this crumbling fortress,
now we lie our bodies in this filth

credits

from The Ghosts That I Fear, released February 14, 2017

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dad thighs Vancouver, British Columbia

dad thighs is an entity of feelings expressed by young adults with a severe case of peter pan syndrome

Victoria
Felix
Kyle
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