Days in the rain
Down to Josephine`s house for tea
French toast and Elvis
French kisses for a boy called me
Scrumping apples in Harrow
Throwing fallers at black Austin cars
Lemon-ices at De La Mura`s
Plotting my life by the stars
And I remember the scent of my father`s Christmas cigar
Traces of lives
Like gold dust in a museum of rooms
In the corner the black and white television
Blinking like a prophet of doom
And I remember my father falling like a stone from the moon
It`s all in the past
It`s all in the photographs
It all looks familiar, but we don`t know the places
We know that we love them
But we cannot put names to the faces
Those faces -- those beautiful faces
Days in the rain
Bruises and powerful scars
I swallowed a sixpence
Someone said: “Who`d you think you are?”
And I remember the scent of my father`s Christmas cigar
Mystical new single from Australian psych project the Dandelion features twisting Farfisa lines, ghostly vocals, and spaced out atmosphere. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 16, 2018