Demos #5

by Joe Holt

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I woke up in Boston Late and hungover I crawled through Allston as it began to stir I crept down Harvard Avenue blinking fast and sweating beer The T came rolling past me wicked pissah to my ear We shared a pizza sat there for a while the sun was shining you had pesto in your smile til I get back to Harlem over land or over sea until I see you darling I will clutch that memory Load out from the show pack up the car pick up the phone til the lonely leaves my bones your voice alone can guide me Here I go now I'm on my way back home I'm like Julius Caesar within sight of Rome My Irish Cleopatra sitting in your golden throne a battered thrift shop armchair I carried on the subway home
In the secret things I think about with no one else around there are lots of insecurities and things that make me frown I am awkward meeting people and I'm often tightly wound There's some stuff about flamingos which I think are really weird and if I'm on the subway I'll admire a bushy beard and yes, I'm planning out our wedding, just like you probably feared We will build a forest cabin and we'll fill it up with books there'll be several comfy armchairs and a couple secret nooks and we'll kiss a lot in public and receive some dirty looks We will have a favourite restaurant we'll visit once a week where the waiters know our names and so the bill is always cheap we'll be making love at midnight when the children are asleep I get stuck in words and images and finding ways to say I'm in love with you I try so hard to be original I lose the picture in the frame I will write a song with G and C and sing it all the time I won't focus on the metaphor or try to make it rhyme nor will I shy from the cliche that I am yours and you are mine I will age like a whiskey in the cellar of your grace with our love digging ditches in the lines of your face and my heart forever fuller, never running out of space
This Is 05:25
This is the room that we'll remember when we look back on this time the curtain rod I stepped on, taped back together is bent but proudly holding on These are the sheets we bought together after dating for a year you picked out the colour, you picked out the pattern I picked out the girl who picked them out This is the childhood home where our love grew up it's full of dirty cups These are the fights that never matter and these are words we shouldn't use you slammed the door, the picture fell, its frame was cracked in two This is our love in its teenage years full of fire and doubt it just needs to let it out This is our love growing up too fast god I need more time don't let this pass me by
Hiraeth 04:30
In the woods behind the house we ran around while waving wooden swords All trampolines and sour grapes the summers gave us all they could afford We stayed up until three and went outside to look at the stars with nobody there to protest if we said they were ours We grew apart all through our teens by college we had sold the trampoline The swords grew dusty on the shelves and we grew old all by ourselves I still think of you when I go out to look at the stars You live miles away but I know you are never that far


All songs written and recorded in the spring and summer of 2016

Special thanks to Becca, Ally, Hawley, Bri, Kat, Michael, Sarah, Emma, the staff of Sexy Taco, anyone who came out to see one of my shows this year, especially Crees, Seung Wook, Ollie, Natalie, Emy and Brandon, Mindy, and lastly, thank you to coffee, tequila, and Kaela.


released August 9, 2016

Joe Holt - vocals, acoustic guitars, electric guitars, suitcase, tambourine, shaker, organ, synths
Harlem - noise


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Joe Holt New York, New York

Joe is a folk singer/songwriter from England, described by Indie Minded as "a gifted young talent who is sure to leave his mark on the folk music scene." His music has been featured twice on NPR. He lives in New York City.

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