El híbrido de folk-rock de grabación lenta de Seryn, “Magazines”, es existencial y se siente como una fresca y lluviosa mañana de octubre. La pista es trascendente de una manera que oscila entre el folk y el rock, suave y tranquila.
También está envuelto en misterio con letras que dejan su significado a la interpretación.
Magazines
Tiny gates open and close
Like the mouth of a prude
Carefully choosing the words that he says
The tongue is a rudder
It doesn’t take much to turn
I’d hate to be the table that sits in the corner
Shelving magazines we only read
For the pictures of people
And things that they do
Better than we do
Chances come and chances go
Love is nothing I don’t know
Say, God when am I gunna know
Say that I’m lucky
And I’ve still got two-thirds a life to live
I’d probably still be waiting to see
Chances come and chances go
Love is nothing I don’t know
Say, God when am I gunna know
Say, God when am I gunna know
It’s all gotta happen, sooner or later
Just later always seems easier than now
’Til it’s finally here
’Til it’s finally here
’Til it’s finally here
It’s finally here
’Til it’s finally here
It’s finally here
Say, God when am I gunna know
