Like some ill Adonis
in Adidas and black leather
I’m rolling through Arabia
with Lawrence’s red letter
My lips are sealed,
my hands are tied,
my eyes two marble spheres
I’ve got pharmaceutical chemicals
hidden in the wheels
I got moto fever
and just like the sons of old
I know what your future holds
Big T.V’s and magazines,
and misanthropic policies
Nixon, Regan, JFK
they all know my name
I’m like the Platters
Great Pretender -
I’m the postman
and the letter sender
I got moto fever
Sideways saddled,
sixstring, switchblade,
laced in nitrate,
bad blood & wine stains.
Checkin’ in the mirror
for the FBI
praise the Lord
I saw the light
go out of yer eyes
for forty days the sun ain’t rised
Now I’m shaking like a rattlesnake tied
to the wheels of my ride (uh uh)
I got moto fever
Australian collective Family Jordan explore complex emotions through soft alt-country songs that take the bucolic with the bittersweet. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 17, 2021