Tiny Retro Organs

I'm tired of these new folk band duos

With guys in long hairs and strange beards

Strumming old guitars they supposedly bought

In trendy second hand shops

In emerging neighbourhoods

Somewhere in New York or West Berlin

Flocking together with skinny long haired

And dressed in black girls

Playing some sort of ridiculous harmonicas

Into which they blow through a rubber hose

Something they call melodica

But sounds like a flat tyre drowning in a pool

And all their lyrics are so deep

They make me wanna kill myself

Over and over and over and over

Over and over and over and over

Over and over and over and over again

I can't stand these introspective trios

Playing very very fluffy tiny retro organs

Singing in a kind of unaudible whisper

All sorts of incomprehensible words

That's not necessarily such a bad thing

It's just that I can't understand what they mean

And all their lyrics are so deep

They make me wanna kill myself

Over and over and over and over

Over and over and over and over

Over and over and over and over again