A rusty taste on my tongue for years, no place for apologies
Time lets the barb-wire grow over our thin white fences
Hear the sound, hear the sound of the bombs tonight
Here's the sound, here's the sound of my voice
Each of the lines we've drawn, I've crossed out them all
Won't make the same mistake again, as you can see
Your enclave was wiped of the map on this yellow night
Our deserted town
A dusty wind blows on my sand table, no more traces of enemies
We've burned the past, plastered with mud, how did we get there ?
Here's the sound, here's the sound of my voice
Each of the lines we've drawn, I've crossed out them all
Won't make the same mistake again, as you can see
Your enclave was wiped of the map on this yellow night
Our deserted town
Each of the notes we wrote, I've trashed them all
Won't make the same mistake again, as you can see
A new track from Pretty Matty finds the band in top form, delivering clean yet crunchy hook-laden power pop with trademark high energy. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 25, 2020
The UK punks' capacity for merging the personal, political, and parochial is so well-developed that it borders on the alchemical. Bandcamp Album of the Day Nov 7, 2022