Chop Chop

by shwa losben

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about

recorded in Austin, TX during a freak snowstorm in early 2007

credits

released February 12, 2008

produced by Taylor Davis and Johnny Goudie
Shwa Losben--vox, guitars, rhodes
Bradley Oliver--bass, keys
Taylor Davis--guitars, vocals, mouth trumpet, claps
Johnny Goudie--symphony, beats
Dony Wynn--drums, spoon toaster
Steve Bernal-cello

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about

shwa losben San Francisco, California

Shwa Losben writes catchy, sophisticated rock songs. He's also really good at Connect Four.

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Track Name: Myriah
It was summer of 05
I had 20 years alive
Myriah moved in the apartment
One eye brown and one eye green
We would cook and she would clean
And drink a little wine for excitement
Every now and then
I’d play some music for her when
She was going out with other men
She’d say she liked the melody
“Would you write a song for me?”
I didn’t tell her that I had a ten

And as the days dragged on
And the nights grew long
I told myself the time was wrong
in my little world
Running round with other girls
Cause the right words would never come

When the summer sun was strong
In the heat with nothing on
Myriah would lie before me
I’d pretend to read a book
While taking in my looks
But myriah would still ignore me
In the evenings we would talk
On occasion we would walk
Through the ‘morgan up Columbia road
She’d look me in the eye
Put her hand upon my thigh
And laugh at every joke I told

And as the days dragged on
And the nights grew long
I told myself the timing’s wrong
In my little world
Running round with other girls
Cause the right words would never come

The stars rearranged
As the weather changed
While I was busy playing stupid games
And what a foolish thing to fear
But I couldn’t bear to hear
Her say she didn’t feel the same

When the autumn came around
Myriah up and left the town
She was ready to go back home
And her father came along
Grabbed her clothes and she was gone
And it was back to my nights alone
Now she’s up in ‘rado springs
Getting a master’s in something
She called me up the other day
And I’m still sitting in the den
Writing songs and thinking when
I let her get away