Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Courtney Barnett
Guitar
Kurt Vile
Vocals
Rob Laakso
Bass
Stella Mozgawa
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kurt Vile
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Courtney Barnett
Producer
Kurt Vile
Producer
Callum Barter
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
You won't believe what I coulda told ya
But I don't believe I've the balls to let you know
I can say that 'cause I'm a man
But I feel like a little boy... today
I cherish my intercontinental friendships
We talk it over continental breakfast
In a hotel in East Bumble-wherever
Somewhere on the sphere, around here
I cherish my intercontinental friendships
Not much very big on enemies
So I kick a can way up into the sun, man
But it falls down into a ravine
I don't mean to even think about it that way, but I do
Watchin' the waves come in at night
From my back porch stoop, porch swing swingin' on its own
See it's just an inhabitant of some holy ghost
I walk like a bruised ego along shorefront property un-owned to me
But I'm feelin' inferior on the interior don't ya see
Guarded and sentimental (and after all, its just a rental)
(Like better luck performin' telekinesis on a priestess)
You won't believe what I mighta, coulda told ya
But I wouldn't wanna leave ya trippin' out over it
OK, more-so me, but...
(Or just me)
Watchin' the waves come in at night
From my back porch stoop, porch swing swingin' on its own
See it's just an inhabitant of some holy ghost
I cherish my intercontinental friendships
We talk it over continental breakfast
In a hotel in East Bumble-wherever
Somewhere on the sphere, around here
Writer(s): Kurt Samuel Vile
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