It’s raining in my lungs today.
My body woke me and said it’s not okay
to keep on living according to your sermons of joy.
To pretend you never get ugly,
to pretend you never get old.
No bluebird has flown to dissect you in your pain.
It’s raining in my lungs today.
I woke up and I knew my choking was in vain,
I got out of bed and spit some blood at the furious sky.
My generation will die with black wayfarers on its eyes.
This very morning they’ll be the cloud and I will be their rain.
It’s raining in my lungs today.
Water falling freely till the dawning of the day.
I suffocate the paleness of the intellectual crowd,
none of them will ever dare to look a dead man in the eye.
However it’s not a numerous crowd anyway.
Today it’s raining in my lungs.
It’s raining a woman’s hidden tears for no love,
raining for the shallow,
raining for the blessful fraud,
that i recently became.
No make up shall paint those lungs
darker than they already are.
No promises I broke for no promises I’ve made.
The Icelandic songwriter packs her stunning debut with sweeping melodies delivered via intimate, folky arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 12, 2023