Mackerel (Single)

by Sandtimer

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Sandtimer present a unique new reworking of their song, 'Mackerel', accompanied by a cover of Beck's song 'Feather In Your Cap'.


released August 3, 2017

Track 1 written by Robert Sword
Track 2 written by Beck Hansen, licensed via Loudr Cover Song Licensing
All tracks produced and arranged by Robert Sword and Simon Thomas

Robert Sword - Vocals, Guitar, Percussion, Sanshin, Synths
Simon Thomas - Vocals, Guitar, Bass
Rachel Thomas - Vocals

All tracks mixed by Giles Thomas
All tracks mastered by Terry Waker at Tonalex Mastering

Cover artwork by Simon Thomas
Album design and additional artwork by William Thomas



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Track Name: Mackerel (Single Version)
I could be your wingman but I get no recognition
while you're tangled in their strings, oh buddy, use your intuition:
this place has stayed the same for several hours since you necked it.
There's no fire to your smoke, there's no mirror to reflect it.

Oh, I could be your wingman but I'm running out of interest.
I'd suggest you start with Scafell but it seems you're tackling Everest.
You're a mackerel out of water and it's drying up my patience.
You're a pyramid of nature that has crumbling foundations.

I could be a dragon like the year I was born,
throwing fireworks at the ceiling, spitting beer on the floor
but I know you wouldn't like it 'cause it isn't in the spirit.
Hey, you've managed to convince yourself that I could help you live it.

You're coming off as selfish as you dive into the crowd,
cold and clammy like a shellfish, cold and distant like a storm cloud.
I would love to call you friend, but you've vanished for a while.
Oh, I try to call you friend but it would seem I'm in denial.
Track Name: Feather In Your Cap
(Lyrics by Beck Hansen)

Make a move with what you can
Dead waters rise higher than your mind
Disappointment is a feather in your cap,
You want the truth so you can crush it in your hand.

There's no map that can tell you where you are.
You're in between things that only go halfway
Your tangled brain, your tired old refrain...
you'll be singing it in your tired old asylum.

You want the best, you want contests.
My eyes are filled with prizes you've been showing.
Disappointment is a card up your sleeve,
place your bets at the door before you leave.