Dear Mum, I'm Sorry

by Auntie Establishment

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Samuel Bradley
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Samuel Bradley Disturbingly lucid, sophisticated DIY folk. A brave gesture.
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This is an album about depression, anxiety and growing up or growing old; about the tedium of another young white boy self-pitying and how such a realisation only worsens things; about the support we need to continue living our lives and the unlikely places in which we often find it; about the last 5 years of my life.

I would not have been able to write any of these songs a year ago - I
still struggle at the best of times to speak honestly in social situations - but through a lot of smacking my head against the wall and with a lot support I've given it a shot, and that's more than I could have said this time last year.

For this there are many people I must thank:

-my close friends, who are an example
-anarchists; everyone everywhere who's chosen to live and inspired me to do the same
-the punk community
-every single person who has recorded a song in their bedroom on a shitty mic and been brave enough to show someone
-every amazing artist who I have invariably ripped off, if you find me I'll pay you royalties
-my parents, for having me
-my beautiful sister, for putting up with me using your laptop
-my brother, for being the reason I took up the guitar
-my cat, for being my best friend of all
-Matt Hall, for the incredible job he did on the cover art

Thank you.


released June 27, 2014

everything was written and recorded in a bedroom in my mum's house on my sister's five-year-old laptop



all rights reserved


Auntie Establishment Edinburgh, UK

download my music for free, or don't, I'll love you either way

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Track Name: Start Again
how many more nights
can I really hope to spend
in a bedroom in my mum's house
while the clock hits 4am
politics are easy
from an old computer chair
burn the state down to the ground
then build up from disrepair
but I'm just a number
living the way I do
another "who was that guy?" (uh, I might know him)
another fucking excuse
so I'll go check the mirror
don't know what I hope to see
but I'd be lying if I said
it wasn't someone else but me

but I won't let this, let this bring me down
a thousand miles from the shore, and pleading
callous? sure, but who's that fooling now?
what's a little spilt blood if no-one's bleeding?

I'm terrified of everything
of everything that's dead
I'm terrified that anything
I wanna say has been said
so teach me how to live
and I'll teach you how to die
and teach me how to leave this place
and I'll give it my best try
take my shaking hand
and walk me through the steps
of growing up or growing old
whichever you'd recommend
I can't promise much
but I can ensure my heart
if you need a friend
to help you find
the proper place to start again
Track Name: Here's the Chalice (and be sure there's wine in it)
I know that from where you're standing
the road I'm on (it seems too fucking long)
and it's all fine and well meandering
if you know where you've come from
and so to you, for me to find my way
I might need to take some orienteering lessons
but I've always been happier wandering alone
as I stumble home

I downright refuse to work at starbucks or subway
just so like you I can look forward to payday
and I know what you're gonna say
but there's more to life than an 8-hour day

so let's judge a hard days work by the mud on our knees
and the amount of passion spent, and the blood on our sleeves
on every word we spat out to the sky
hopeful for a reply from anywhere
and if God's there, I hope She cries
for all the men who are far too scared to try

so sorry wilma, sorry alan
sorry david cameron (sorry, not sorry)
I am sorry for the blindfolds you have on
and those you haven't
'cos they're leading you astray
you know there's more to life than an 8-hour day
Track Name: The Greatest Loser
give me your hunger
and your distance
I've been feeding my addictions
by the drunken mother's bottle
and the holes I burn in my brain
left the light on
in my memory
wish I didn't have to look
at the crimes of passion, crimes of love
crimes of being an asshole, crimes of being misunderstood

but if we tally up our failures
then I'll finally be a winner
get the first placed tin medal
for being the greatest sinner
and I'd never have to buy another drink
in another nowhere bar
I wouldn't have to go very far

I've never been one to consider
what the righteous like to call
the bigger picture
just as long as I can wish myself to sleep
for another night
I fell in love yesterday
with another on the screen
who I saw and for a moment
felt again like I was eighteen
not afraid of waking up
aware of who I am
and who I'm destined to be

cos I've lost my share of fights
that I've never even started
and I've lost my share of love
that I've never been a part of
and I've lost my share of fucks
that I've never even given
but still I am yet to forgive
or to be forgiven
Track Name: We're All Angels on the Inside
I drank myself into a hole
that my tongue dug
the bitter taste of soil fills my mouth
I'm choking, such a struggle
for such lovable contempt
but it's a comfort that I couldn't live without
I'm concerned that everyone resents me
thinks me foolish, just a kid
that I might murder my own mother
or that I already did
check the closet
see what you find
just some old skeletons
but don't be sure that they're even mine, cos

every heartbeat is a coffin slam
and every street is deathrow
won't someone untie my hands?
I'm not ready to go,
not ready to fly
still waiting on these wings
to grow inside this uncertain body
change takes time

there's so much regret in the rain
dropping deadweights
and piggybacking rides across our lungs
pitching tents in the looks that we don't see
and in the songs that are never sung
(open your eyes)

a 4am smile is all I need
from a stranger on the street
to remind me that the world isn't all that it seems
locking dreams in their backpacks
everyone retreats
to leave me feeling free and alone

every heartbeat is a coffin slam
and every street is deathrow
won't someone untie my hands?
I'm not ready to go,
not ready to fly
still waiting on these wings
to grow inside this uncertain body
change takes time
Track Name: The Pregnant Summer
18 years to learn that summer
passes the same every time
and though taxes stay hidden in child-proof drawers
"don't worry. boy, there's nothing to hide"

but I'm not a father
and a husband knows better
than to let a mother cry
I don't know if a God can help us
but I know that I'm willing to try

you found a house in the country
we built a home in our hearts
and though memory still lives
like a ghost in these halls
there's a comfort that never departs
but I don't know where you are now
ain't that something worth talking about?
maybe texas or canada
down some old street corner
writing letters that you'll never send out

but if you seek forgiveness
salvation, whatever
then just leave it up to time
I don't know if you're still holding hope
I don't know if I'm still holding mine
Track Name: Maybe Only Babies Fall in Love
I thought I saw you across the pond
hanging the washing out
but I couldn't make you out for the storm
seems I've got something to be sad about
I thought I saw you fall
with an old chipped china cup
stolen your wings from an angel
we've never broken up
but I never knew your shoe size
so how can I be sure
that the pair of flats by the door
are really even yours?
and the scratches down my spine
aren't scars from some playground fight
you said I might be dreaming
I said "honey, I think you might be right"
why can I never see you
with my eyes open?
and why can my friends not meet you?
they don't think I'm coping that well
you're the perfect intervention
for the worst fucking day
you're a sunset at 3pm
on a sunday in may
and maybe only babies ever fall in love
cos every lover that I see
is refusing to grow up

cos you live in a dream
a narcissistic fantasy
and I guess it would seem
that you'll always be a part of me
and isn't that enough
for just another useless fuck?
or maybe this is just
what everyone means when they say
grow up