Usurper

So, Alex Chilton of Big Star died today...well, yesterday now. We listened to their whole discography and wrote a 70s pop song.

Usurper:

Stop writing songs about Jesus
I don't want to hear them anymore
our thoughts are so impure
and I'll never know for sure

Maybe I'll meet you again someday
in some glass the world has stirred
I don't need you anymore
but I'll never know for sure

We'll go to your house in our motioning bodies
and try not to sing "You Really Got Me."
Spent so much time moving forward and back
I could draw a map of the sidewalk cracks
Usurper

You've been feeling underwhelmed
and feeling so uncertain
oh, a shell's such an interesting kind of a person
And what is the source, my friend
of the desert's desertion?
And what is the world if it's not a diversion?

We'll go to your house in our motionless bodies
I started to sing but your expression stopped me
Spent so much time moving forward and back
I could draw a map of the subway tracks
Usurper

Usurper, Usurper, Usurper.

And if our bodies never touch,
I don't know what I'll do.

And if our bodies ever touch,
always searching, never rushed
heated, supple, at full blast
the flags are rising from half mast.